


Forgotten Soldiers

by TyJax_EeOwen



Series: WIP [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies), The Punisher (TV 2017)
Genre: Action, Alternate Canon, Alternate Universe, Anti-Hero Team Goals, Arguing, Bucky Barnes Feels, Bucky Barnes Has Issues, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Bucky Barnes Remembers, Bucky Barnes's Metal Arm, Crossover, Crossover Pairings, David Lieberman Is So Done, Emotional Baggage, Eventual Fluff, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Relationships, Eventual Romance, Flashbacks, Flashbacks Hurt, Frank Castle Feels, Frank Castle Has Issues, Frank Castle needs a hug, Hurt/Comfort, Hydra (Marvel), M/M, Minor Injuries, Minor Violence, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Sharing Clothes, Soldiers, Spoilers, Up all night to get Bucky, Violence, common goals
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-19
Updated: 2018-08-26
Packaged: 2019-02-04 09:31:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 18
Words: 59,632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12768075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TyJax_EeOwen/pseuds/TyJax_EeOwen
Summary: “What about this?!” another blow and another and another and he was wheezing harder, coughing and choking on the pain and blood that was brought up. He definitely had broken ribs.“Hey, ease up. Hydra wanted him in one piece,” one of the other guys mentioned, his tone hard, but sensible. He was clearly afraid of what Hydra could do to them if they found their Soldier too beaten up to do what they needed. Bucky would be afraid if he were them. They should be afraid of what could happen if Hydra didn’t show up before the tranq wore off.“Could argue self-defence,” the guy hit him again, sending his head in the other direction, his face hurting and aching painfully.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A few things are different since it's a tad AU, just roll with it.

**Please don't steal the image/I worked hard on it**

Bucky panted harshly, his breath catching in his throat for the umpteenth time as he was directly booted in the stomach, blood spitting from his mouth again and splattering the floor ahead of him, coating grey cement in deep red. He wheezed and panted, clearing his throat and tasting the thick blood covering his tongue. His eyes were squeezed shut and his body was aching from the twenty-four/seven treatment. It hadn’t been that long since he was caught, two days at least and they were taking everything out on him. From when Hydra feel in DC to what happened after they unfroze him in Wakanda. As soon as they were back in the States, everything took a turn for the worst and Bucky was separated from everyone, leaving him on the run again. He’d headed to Hell’s Kitchen and that was when he was found. Some intel made it around and he was caught out.

Now he had no idea where he was. Sitting in a chair, getting the shit kicked into him by a bunch of low-level Hydra goons that were basic street thugs given a title as a reward for catching him off guard. He shouldn’t have stopped to rest, shouldn’t have taken a breath to catch his breath. Bucky would be back in Hydra after tomorrow, back to being a damn puppet.

“How d’you like that, huh?!” another punch and kick to his gut and face, his head snapping away with the impact. He couldn’t even fight back. He was drugged with an Elephant tranq. He was useless right there, tied to a chair he could easily break if he wasn’t injected with that strong stuff they used back when he was being programmed. He was hit again, more blood spilling from his mouth and he was sure that his nose broke with that one. It was burning, a cold burn and it was quickly becoming numb, his jaw too, but that wasn’t broken.

“What about this?!” another blow and another and another and he was wheezing harder, coughing and choking on the pain and blood that was brought up. He definitely had broken ribs.

“Hey, ease up. Hydra wanted him in one piece,” one of the other guys mentioned, his tone hard, but sensible. He was clearly afraid of what Hydra could do to them if they found their Soldier too beaten up to do what they needed. Bucky would be afraid if he were them. They should be afraid of what could happen if Hydra didn’t show up before the tranq wore off.

“Could argue self-defence,” the guy hit him again, sending his head in the other direction, his face hurting and aching painfully. He panted and coughed up more red before grimacing at the taste and swallowing so that he could breathe. He had to keep his mouth open because of his nose and it only confirmed that it was busted.

“Doubt it when the guy looks this bad and we don’t have a scratch on us,” the other guy argued, clearly the one with brains and then he was suddenly punched in the face by the guy that had been beating on Bucky, watching him go down and hold his nose, blood bursting between his fingers from the blow. He was wincing and hissing in pain, rolling on the ground.

“See? _He_ did that,” _bullshit._ The guy laughed and turned back on Bucky, grinning wildly in his face. “He’s totally skilled enough to do it, even when he’s all drugged up,” he shrugged and punched him in the face again, throwing his head to the side. Bucky panted and stayed like that spit out more blood, his eyes flicking around a little and catching a shadow. He could’ve been mistaken. He could’ve been wrong. He hoped he wasn’t.

“The fuck, man!” the guy on the ground whined, now sitting up. Bucky stared from him to the guy standing ahead of him, half bent and still grinning at him like a madman. He saw the hand reach out and roughly hold his jaw, purposely gripping tightly until Bucky could feel the pressure of where he was clamping his hand down on him and it hurt, a strong lingering pain spreading through his face.

“Yeah, the fuck’d you have to break his nose for!” the guy let go and punched him full force in the face again, a knee hitting him straight in the gut again and it drew more blood, spraying the floor between his knees, his leg and the floor beside the chair when he was punched again. He could take a lot, Bucky could confirm that, and this was a lot. He was hurting, in pain and aching. There was no way Hydra would let this guy get off easy with all this damage. Yeah, he’d be completely healed within two days, but that was two days that Hydra wouldn’t be able to do anything with him, would have to keep him locked up and well fed and cleaned until everything was perfect again and they could work on triggering him.

He was literally knocked out of his thoughts by another punch and with that one he dropped his head forward, blood dripping from his nose and mouth. He was in so much damn pain, his body was aching all over and the tranq was only making him weak enough to take the beating.

“Aaaaww, am I hurting the Winter Soldier? Not much of a big shot in Hydra if all you can take is a beatin’ like this,” Bucky huffed a bemused scoffed and dropped back in his seat, staring up at the guy with a dark smirk.

“If I wasn’t tranqued, I’d be showing you your own spine right now… if you had one. Beatin’ on me while I can’t fight back? Makes you more pathetic than a coward,” he knew for a fact that it was egging the guy on and he felt the rage in the next punched, sending his head flying to the side, gasping and coughing around all the blood that built up with the attacks.

“Who you callin’ a coward huh? Who ran from Hydra like a lil’ pussy?!” another punch and he saw the knee coming, but it never hit. A gun went off a bullet hitting a mark and blood was sprayed, hitting Bucky like water from a shower. He stared, eyes wide as the body fell to his knees and then to the side, eyes open with a hole square in his forehead, dead centre.

“No-no-no-no, please!-,” another shot went off just as he glanced over at the other guy, watching him drop to his knees too. Bucky stared for a few seconds, blinking blankly before turning to look for the one that shot them. His gaze landed groggily on a big guy standing there between two big pillars of this construction building. At least that was what he deemed it as. There was a lot of construction stuff everywhere and there were walls that had been busted down by huge hammers, three or four that he could see on this level.

Bucky stared at the man, still wheezing and leaking blood from his mouth and nose. He wasn’t healing like he used to thanks to the tranq. The guy looked big, muscular from what he could see, though he was covered in dark clothes at something like three or four in the morning. Black long sleeve folded up to his elbows, dark blue or black jeans, maybe faded black. A hipster look about the hair and beard. He looked like a modern-day lumberjack.

“Can you get outta that yourself?” his voice was really deep, no emotion there, wanted to be anywhere but there by the tone. And Bucky groggily shook his head, swallowing blood as he tried lifting his arms against the chains they stuck him to the stupidly sturdy chair with. He saw the huff leave the guys mouth and he glanced around fast before cautiously coming over. “Which one got the keys?” that… he wasn’t sure of. He woke up after he was in the chair, but if he thought about it, the one with sense would have the keys. He’d never let the idiot have them. So he gestured to the second one that was killed, aching at the movement.

Bucky was gradually relaxing after the blows, his body still in pain, but it was dulling now that they’d stopped. But that meant that now that he could relax, his body was easing, letting the drug take him again because he wasn’t fighting it now. His mind was heavier, eyes heavier.

“Hey, hey, don’t you die on me,” the guy had the keys, confirming Bucky’s assumption and stepped over, hands getting to work on unchaining him. He was still feeling heavier though.

“Not dying. S’the the tranq,” Bucky slurred before everything started blurring, eyes getting too heavy to hold open. He felt the hot hand on his jaw, way softer than the guy that held it earlier. From the little moments, it was like he was looking over the beating he was given, but that was all he could think before it darkened enough that he flickered out like a light switch.

\--------------------

Frank huffed, staring up at the unconscious guy from where he was kneeling in front of him. He was out completely like any normal man would be after only a quarter of the beating this one took, and he was tranquillized too.

It only confirmed what he’d heard from what the Hydra bastards had said. He didn’t believe it at first but now… really looking at the situation. He had the Winter Soldier in front of him, arm an all. The hell was he doing here though? Yeah, he’d caught the part about him running, but this was a shitbag town. A guy would do anything for the right price and most of the City would do whatever they could to get to Hydra if they saw the Winter Soldier. Spreading rumours was easy and he knew that Hydra was pretty much everywhere still. A pretty penny for this guys life and they’d be all over it.

Frank bit harshly on the inside of his lip and stared up at him. He didn’t even really understand this guy's story. If he was really innocent or not. From what he knew, he’d taken out so many guys, killed hundreds and had been the one that supposedly killed the King of Wakanda months ago and here he was, sitting in front of him as vulnerable as could be. Frank didn’t know what to do.

“Sonofa-...” he huffed deeply, glaring at him before letting the contact go between them before he stood up. He was defenceless right now except for that arm, but being unconscious was a plus, meant he couldn’t use the arm.

Before anything was really decided, he cleaned up the mess of the two thugs, tossing them into the cement mix and turning it on, watching as they were covered and no trace was left of the bodies themselves. He did what he could to clean up all the blood, the blood left by the Soldier too. There was a lot and he almost felt sorry for him for having to take a beating like that and not be able to defend himself in any way.

Once that was all done, he manoeuvred the Winter Soldier to the floor and tossed the blood-soaked chair into the cement as well, no evidence, and then turned it off. He then returned to the Soldier and stared down at him, watching him closely. He’d have to do something about him, but it wouldn’t be tossing him into the cement. He couldn’t really take him to a hospital. That was stupid and Hydra would be waiting if there was rumour than an idiot brought him in.

He ran a hand over his face and reached down, slipping a hand under the Soldier’s thigh, the other holding on to his side and he hefted him up, a fireman's lift over his shoulder. He angled him a little before turning and walking away from the scene. The only place he could really take him was his apartment… or to Micro.

He frowned and then angled the Soldier so he wouldn’t fall from his shoulder as he reached into his pocket and dialled the guy. He waited a few seconds before hearing the groggy voice on the other end.

“Frank, hey. What’s up?” it sounded like he’d rather be anyway but on the phone with him right now. So there was definitely good odds of the guy being happy with having both him and the _Winter Soldier_ in his low budgeted Batman cave.

“Cut the shit. I got a favour,” Frank immediately went into his _I don’t give a shit, shut up_ attitude, already heading in the direction that led to his hideout.

“Nice way to ask for a favour, Frank,” more attitude and frank just huffed into the line, a humourless smirk on his lips.

“How d’you feel about the Winter Soldier?” regardless of what the guy thought, he’d be taking the Soldier there. There was no way he was taking him to his apartment yet, that was more than likely suicide and it’d be better if he could keep an eye on him. The guy had cameras everywhere and had tranquillizers of his own.


	2. Chapter 2

As soon as Frank showed up at the hideout, Lieberman started complaining and ranting and whining about everything that was wrong with this situation. The fact that he showed up with the Winter Soldier on his shoulder threw him entirely. He was shocked silent for a good few minutes as Frank strode in and dropped the guy onto the bed gracelessly. 

He then started yelling about how it couldn’t be the Soldier because the last they saw of both him and Captain America, they had been in Germany with that Airport battle and then Team Cap disappeared. So the guy thought that wherever Captain Rogers went, the Winter Soldier would follow. That wasn’t strictly true since before DC, there was no sign of the guy when the Captain was saving lives.

Frank knew enough about this to get by, aware that Hydra had the Soldier, lost him after DC and then he resurfaces when shit hit the fan when the King of Wakanda died. He didn’t know what to make of that though. Why would the guy show up again just to kill a man that didn’t really have a connection with anything? It wasn’t like having him around would change anything.

“He’s not the Winter Soldier,” Micro stated as he stood on the far end of the room, as far away from the bedroom as he could get. His tone made it obvious that he was in denial as he stared at the bed the guy was unconscious in, Frank sitting in the chair a few feet away, guard up and senses sharp, ready for anything if the Soldier abruptly woke up and attacked. He couldn’t be too careful.

“You can ask him yourself when he wakes up,” Frank replied emotionlessly, still staring at him as he seemed peaceful, a look that suited that face. He could see the stress lines and the bags under his eyes and exhaustion on his face. He really hadn’t slept in ages. Frank knew that look, he’d had it himself, looked at it every time he looked in a mirror.

“Hell no, I’m not gonna talk to him! That arm and the star are too coincidental! I like life!” Lieberman yelled, pointing at the body on the bed like it would make him disappear and Frank huffed and turned a glare on the hacker, staring him down and watching as it didn’t really have much of an effect on him like always.

“Make up your damn mind. You think he’s the Winter Soldier, or not,” he gave him the options and then returned to staring at the Soldier as he just lay there, not moving a muscle and just staying perfectly still. His breaths were a little laboured from the beating, but the fast healing was helping, healing from the inside out by the look of it. He was still bloody, but that was only because he didn’t want to get close enough that the Soldier could grab him and take him out. He’d wait until he was awake to ask if he wanted a shower or get cleaned up. He’d get the bucket and sponges and stuff for him if so.

“I don’t know! All signs say yes-, but…” Micro was still freaking out, voice changing to every pitch a voice had while he verbally flailed. He was overthinking everything about this situation. It was easy. If he turned out bad, Frank would put him down, or try to. If he was good, then he could clean him up, wait until he was healed up and then send him on his way. No problem. Frank even reached a hand to his thigh, a gun resting there just in case.

“You’re in denial. Not surprised,” he huffed, still watching the body and noticing the slight change in his breathing pattern, something like a hitch like it caught in his throat. He didn’t seem awake, maybe he was stirring. He wasn’t sure, not yet anyway.

“I’m not in denial-,” Lieberman cut himself off when Frank became surer that he was stirring. The Soldier shifted, head tilting against the pillow, his hand lightly gripping the bed sheet below. “He just moved,” duh. It’d been a few hours since he brought him here. A few hours that passed by pretty slow and now it was dawn, the sun coming up. David had told him so because that was about the time his wife woke up. So Frank timed that to about five in the morning, maybe six now.

“No shit,” he replied curtly and continued watching the bed, eyes barely blinking. “He’s asleep, not dead,” he was actually awake. The breathing pattern seemed like it was forced to be slow, aiming to pretend to sleep to fool those around him. If Frank wasn’t as well trained as he was and had never done the same himself, he’d have passed it off as the guy falling back to sleep. He didn’t call him out on it though, letting him pretend and not letting Lieberman in on this.

“Can’t you make him dead?” the hacker whined in question, gesturing to the Soldier on the bed again. There was no twitch or sign of movement, the guy definitely having been trained to separate his physical and mental emotion. He was completely motionless.

“No,” Frank replied sharply, his brow creasing in the centre and pointing down in a frown. “I’m not puttin’ a bullet in him,” he wouldn’t put him out unless he had to and from what he saw, Frank would have an easy time of that while he was this hurt. The Soldier could fight back now that he was healing, but that didn’t mean he was able to brawl with Frank right now. He’d be on the defensive and would avoid any kind of fight, he was sure. Until he was at a hundred percent anyway.

“Why not? He’s a bad guy!” Lieberman yelled across the hideout and he took a second to glare at him, staring harshly before returning his gaze back to the Soldier. He was still lying there, no movement. At this point, Frank would’ve huffed in irritation or swallowed and took a deep breath to keep himself calm, but there was none of that.

“So am I and yet you brought me here to take out the guys that wanted us dead,” he replied deeply, his tone dark and gritty when he thought over the number of bodies he’d dropped not too long ago. It wasn’t like they didn’t deserve it, but it still made him think about the change from a simple man in the military to whom he was now. It was a deep, dark leap into darkness that he hadn’t realized he took until he got back to Hell’s Kitchen, and started his revenge spree, cleaning up the trash from the streets.

“But now they’re dead thanks to you, so we’re safe,” he was still verbally flailing, arms making gestures everywhere and Frank could feel another headache coming on from just hearing him talk. His voice was grating on his nerves more than usual.

“So why’re you still hidin’ out in this low budgeted Bat-Cave?” Frank asked rhetorically, not looking up from the Winter Soldier. He was awake, which meant that he was listening and probably checking out his surroundings through his senses. Wouldn’t surprise him if he could do that.

“It’s not low budge-,” Lieberman whined loudly before Frank cut him off fast and simple.

“It’s worse than low budget,” he was just messing with him for his own amusement at this point and he was entertained. He sometimes found pleasure in getting the hacker to bite at his sentences, watching get frustrated thinking that Frank wasn’t listening. It took him a while to actually realize what Frank was actually doing and that was what made it even more amusing, he never learned.

“Don’t dis the lair,” Lieberman snapped back, pointing at him like he was scolding some child for doing a bad thing. It drew a smirk to his lips, but only for a few seconds before everything dulled, becoming a little quiet and he sat there, still watching the Soldier lying there, still listening to them talk and bicker.

“He’s awake,” Frank eventually pointed out, his tone casual and still deep. There was an entire moment of silence where he saw the Soldier open his eyes and tilt his head towards him, deep blue, stormy eyes landing on Frank, no waver or flicker in his gaze. They were still, unnervingly so.

“What!?”

\--------------------

Bucky internally winced at the loudly exclaimed question, outwardly seeming unfazed as he stared at the guy that unchained him. He remembered him, remembered him killing the two Hydra thugs that had caught him off guard and beat on him, remembered him grabbing the keys and unchaining him and then it was dark. He’d passed out then, but now where was he?

“What d’you mean he’s awake!?” he was annoying. This guy was completely irritating him already. Just the conversation from when he was pretending to sleep irked him enough that he’d had a hard time seeming unconscious. When did this guy realize that he wasn’t asleep? Couldn’t have been about the time he called him out. Before that, definitely.

Before the guy answered, Bucky took a deep breath and forced himself to sit up, using his arms to brace him when he was sitting and then turned his head so that he was watching the other man again. He saw the gun and had heard him say that he wouldn’t shoot him if it wasn’t necessary. He wouldn’t give him a reason to if he wouldn’t shoot him for not being hostile.

“Like I said…” the big guy gestured to him with his gun-free hand and bucky stared at him, eyeing him over smoothly and taking in what he could. Big guy, bigger than, Bucky, military by the way he sat, his posture, his hair. He had a weapon drawn, but only for a warning, no threat. He was highly trained, hands raw with calluses and hard labour, regularly held weapons. A leader type? He’d suffered a loss, he could see it. Damaged, haunted. Bucky could see it on his face. He knew that look.

“Who were the two guys from before?” the big guy asked, tone hard, no emotion. Bucky was sure that they knew who he was, that being the Winter Soldier, so they’d understand that Hydra would be involved too. He was correct in assuming that the man was military and that’d mean that he may know more on the subject of Hydra since World War two was built on them fighting the world, to take over.

“Hydra,” Bucky answered flatly, his voice quiet, but gritty and deep, groggy from having woken up not long ago. He watched the man and then slowly eyed everything else, turning his head to look around and then over his shoulder. The place was rundown, empty, clearly lived in but not livable. Low budgeted Bat-Cave was right. He wouldn’t question how they got by living here, they seemed to have a system since they were still alive and didn’t look like they were going hungry. The big guy ahead of him even smelt decent, like he’d had a shower recently.

“Hydra fell back in Washington DC a few years ago,” the guy on the other end of the room called over, sounding as if he knew for a fact that it did. He was delusional. They were still alive, still kicking and he’d been attacked on more than many occasion just to be recaptured. He’d avoided them, trying his best to stay off of the radar.

“Cut off the head, more’ll grow back,” he answered simply, his tone darker when he unintentionally remembered the Hydra symbol, a cold feeling running up his spine like a freezing hand, it reminded him of the icebox he was regularly inside when frozen until the next time they wanted an assassination done right.

“Why were they after you?” the guy ahead of him asked, his tone flat, no emotion like before. He was guarding himself, walls built high to keep Bucky from getting through if he tried. Though he was already through since he’d already noted down so much by just looking at him.

“You know the answer to that,” he replied as if he hadn’t gotten around or through the wall. Bucky wasn’t one to point out anything he’d found, so he left the man alone, simply answering and asking questions to understand their situation. They weren’t going to try to kill him unless he brought it on himself. The scrawny guy was edgy, not surprising. The bigger guy, not so much, but only because he was forcing himself to stay calm. He was in some kind of hideout that was very much lived in, but the man ahead of him looked clean, no dust from the ground or walls or surfaces of this place, which told him he slept somewhere else someone cleaner. The fidgety guy definitely slept here. He looked like more of a mess than Bucky did.

“I want to hear you say it,” the man ahead of him drew his attention again, leaning forward until his elbows were resting on his knees, gun still in hand. It was just there, no warning anymore. He assumed it was because Bucky didn’t come off as a threat to start with. He appeared guarded but relaxed enough that he seemed open, neutral.

“Because I’m the Winter Soldier. Hydra wants their weapon back,” the latter half of that sentence came out a tad bitter, but if anyone really knew why they wouldn’t blame him for being as bitter as he was. The whole thought was simply grim.

“I still don’t believe it,” the guy on the other end of the room called over and Bucky actually rolled his eyes and sat there, arms folded, elbows on his knees. He was still aching some, but not as much. His face was less numb and he could feel that the bruises and gashes from where he was repeatedly hit were closed up enough that he wasn’t bleeding. He was still throbbing though, his breathing still hard, but he wasn’t panting anymore.

“What d’you want, a Hydra birth certificate?” he replied sarcastically towards the idiot standing as far away as he could in the space of the hideout. He was right to stay that far away, Bucky was tempted to slap him for being an irritation.

“Tell us something that only the Winter Soldier would know,” now he was being ridiculous. Everything that the Winter Soldier knew was on file because it was all Hydras orders and everything else, Steve knew. Bucky had no secrets to himself that were entirely his anymore. The only things he really had that no one knew of were kills that the Head of Hydra set him out on, like the JFK assassination. No one but the Head of Hydra knew about that, though many could easily guess at this point.

“I killed JFK,” he shrugged, glancing between the two and then watching the scrawny guy. His mouth dropped wide open and he had to hold back from smirking in amusement when he open and closed it a few times, at a loss for words. He then took a glance at the bigger guy, noting how he just simply watched him with a strong calculating gaze.

“That was 1963. You’d have to be like-... in your fifties or sixties,” the guy on the other end of the room exclaimed, his tone full of disbelief and incredulousness. It was highly amusing and this would be his only form of entertainment for the next few minutes.

“I was alive during World War two,” he added, watching him closely and seeing him actually freak out for a moment. He could see the cogs in his mind steaming from how fast and frantic his thoughts were as they rushed through his brain.

“How old are you!?” the guy yelled.


	3. Chapter 3

Bucky watched the blood spread in the water from the cloth, watching it mix inside of the bucket. Some blood was dripping from his face from where he’d previously ran the wet cloth, seeing it drip into the bucket. He pulled the cloth out of the water, wringing it out some before running it over his face again and feeling the throbs of where he was hurt and still healing. They did a number on him, but he’d been through worse, he wasn’t one to complain, so he wouldn’t, regardless of being asked by the soldier still sitting a safe distance away, watching him like he was still a soldier on duty.

He ran the cloth over the side of his face and down his cheek, being careful when he wiped up the blood around his nose. It wasn’t busted, seeing as it’d healed enough, but it was still tender and hurt when there was pressure. Bucky was careful and dabbed at it, taking away as much blood as he could and just continued with the rest of his face once he got as much as he could before it stung. He’d keep going back to it.

Bucky saw more blood dripping into the bucket and dropped the cloth back in before wringing it out and continuing with his nose and then over his mouth. He ran it over his jawline and then ran it down his neck, taking up the blood that seeped through the collar of his shirt. He’d need a change of clothes, but he didn’t know where he was or if he should even ask. These two guys didn’t look as helpful as he’d hoped since one was afraid of him and shrunk whenever he looked over and the other guy, the bigger one, just seemed to be set on watching him like he was his prisoner.

“I’m gonna-... make coffee. You want any?” he flicked his glance up at the guy ahead of him just as he nodded the once and then returned to clean up the blood. It was under the shirt from where the blood had spilt from his mouth and down his chest. It seeped through like water on fabric and he could feel it drying against the skin of his chest. It made him grimace lightly, making him feel itchy. “What about you- uh… whatever your real name is. Or should I just wall you Winter Soldier?”

At that, Bucky lifted his gaze over to him, watching him closely as he took a quick step into the kitchen, putting the glassless windows and the workspace of the centre room between them. He dropped it again to continue wiping as much blood up as possible. He could still feel it on his face.

“Bucky,” he replied shortly, running the rag all over his neck and face, being careful around his nose. He still had maybe a few hours until it was healed completely and that meant the same for his cracked ribs. He was extra durable thanks to the serum and if he hadn’t had that on his side, they’d be broken, completely.

“What?” he heard the guy say across the room and he subtly glanced over for only a second or two before dropping the rag into the bucket and letting it soak up the water again, blood seeping out into the water.

“People who don’t call me the Winter Soldier call me that,” James, Bucky, Soldier, Barnes, Asset. They were just names and he didn’t care what he was called. Bucky was just something that everyone else called him. His nickname from when he was a kid.

“Your friends?” the guy sitting ahead of him asked sceptically, still watching him. Bucky was sure that he hadn’t seen him blink yet and that was mildly disturbing. His stillness, well trained like he’d originally thought. It had nothing on the Soldier though. Bucky had seen himself in a mirror after a nightmare of the Winter Soldier and the stance and appearance were uncanny. It had been as if he was the Winter Soldier in that moment, but looking through his eyes. Unnaturally motionless unless the motion was required.

“I don’t have friends,” Bucky distractedly replied, eyes downcast as he imagined the mirror and the Soldier himself. He could feel it, feel the Soldier under his own skin right that moment. He was on edge, the Soldier, not Bucky. Though Bucky did feel that his guard was high, as high as it could be regardless of how he physically came off as somewhat calm while being surveyed by the soldier sitting ahead of him.

“What about Hydra?” Bucky snapped his gaze up, glaring harshly at the comment and immediately saw the man flinch and throw himself back against the counter, hands up in surrender as soon as he saw Bucky’s reaction. “That was a joke, that was a joke!” it wasn’t funny. He continued to glare, watching him for a long moment before drawing his gaze back to the ground, still scowling as he involuntarily let the words repeat in his mind.

A couple of minutes went by in silence, Bucky wiping up his skin to be sure that there was no blood left. A subtle glance over to the kitchen and he saw that the guy was edgier as he made himself coffee, continuously glancing over and it was mildly amusing that he was that scared of him, though it hurt, he focused on the funny side of it.

“Not gonna kill him if I leave the room, are you?” the Soldier looked up at the other one sitting ahead, staring at him calculatingly.

“Whoa hey, what? You’re not leaving me with him,” the scrawny guy darted out of the kitchen, a jar of coffee in hand. He hadn’t poured it. He seemed scared and offended or insulted. He wasn’t sure. But Bucky still watched him with a hard stare and said nothing as this unfolded.

“He needs clothes. His’re all covered in blood,” the bigger man said as he finally moved, muscles flexing as he stood up and turned slightly to the side. It was like he deemed Bucky as not a threat, though he knew that the man probably still considered him something similar to that or just less of one and it was why he hadn’t turned his back towards him. He was smart, not that Bucky would attack him. 

“Then get him something of mine,” the other guy flailed his arms around, the one holding the jar less so before he put it down so that he could flail both angrily at the bigger man. He needed to get their names, calling them  _ Scrawny _ and  _ The bigger guy _ was just irritating at this point. It’d be simpler, even if they were simply aliases.

“Your shit won’t fit him,” the larger of the two said with a tone that gave no room for argument and he turned to leave the glassless room, back still not really turned to him in caution before stepping into the centre of the room to grab something, his phone by the looks of it. “I’ll be back,” and he then headed out and down the short ramp that led to the car. He gave them a last glance, staring at Bucky with a warning in his eye before climbing in and starting it up, leaving swiftly after. He summed the speed up to wanting to get back just as fast.

There was a long moment of silence, Bucky and the Scrawny guy sitting and standing in silence, no words shared and he just stayed put, sitting there and staring at him, watching him slowly reach a hand to his face, running it over his skin and then messily threading it through his equally messed up hair. Another moment and the guy gradually turned his head to face him, something between fear and resignation on his face. He could see exasperation too, which told him he was regularly left like this with something dangerous on hand.

“Please don’t kill me,” he requested meekly, his voice deep and cracking. Bucky simply quirked a brow and then returned to clean up what he could before deciding to take his shirt off to remove the blood sticking to his skin. 

Bucky knew that Steve along with a few others thought that he was too broken or self-conscious to show his arm or the scars between metal and skin, when in all honesty, Bucky couldn’t have cared less. He didn’t take his shirt off because it was either unnecessary or it was too high a risk if he was seen by the wrong people.

So when Bucky reached down and grabbed the hem, folding it up over his body until it was over his head, body revealed, arm in full view, he didn’t care. The Scrawny guy and the big one were clearly two that were in hiding and they’d hidden him, or the big one did and the other unwillingly agreed to it. Either way, he was somewhat safe of being caught and they already knew who he was and still hadn’t contacted anyone, that much was clearer than his lack of caring about showing his arm right now.

He completely ignored the staring, wanting to clean up before the other guy showed up with clothes for him. At least then he can finally wear something that wasn’t covered in blood. Though actually, he could’ve just stripped when he started cleaning himself.

\--------------------

It didn’t take too long for Frank to go and get what he needed. He still had that apartment room that no one knew about and he still had some stuff there like extra clothes, toiletries and other things that he could grab. He was a light traveller. Clothes and other necessities. 

He circled a few areas to make sure that he wasn’t being followed before heading straight for the hideout, still keeping an eye out even then. He knew that even though everything was quiet, no eyes on him or Lieberman at the moment, Hydra was around now and he could imagine how much they wanted the Winter Soldier back. They were more likely to draw attention to them just to flush them out or maybe even start a gunfight if they found out that it was him that took the Soldier. Anything to get them away from the guy to get to him. Frank was sure that if they realized who he was, they’d have to hit harder than they thought if he was any other guy.

Frank drove the car up to the garage door, watching it lift before he drove it in and stopped, looking behind him to make sure it closed. Once it did, he grabbed the bag from the passenger seat and climbed out, slamming the door closed behind him.

“Lieberman, you still alive?” he called without any worry in his tone. He figured that he would be. He couldn’t think of a reason that the Soldier would’ve killed him unless he was that annoying and just pissed the guy off, but he thought that he was smarter than that.

“Yeah, I-uh… I’m in the kitchen,” still? He really that scared of the guy he won’t leave the kitchen? Frank shook his head as he headed up the short staircase that led to the bedroom, looking into the room to see the Soldier standing there, staring down at his bare torso while looking over a nasty looking bruise on his stomach and ribs. Where the guys were beating him before. He thought it’d look worse than that, though maybe that was the super healing or whatever that was in the Serum. He was like Captain America in that aspect, right? Same sort of serum.

“Hey,” Frank greeted flatly as he walked up to the room and tossed the bag onto the swivel chair he’d been sitting on before. He opened it and started digging through it, glancing over at the Soldier for a second to see him standing there, paused in checking out his big bruises to stare at him calculatingly for a moment. Frank continued watching him for a lingering moment as he went through the bag, not really looking at what he was grabbing before the Soldier went back to looking at the bruises. Frank then returned to rifling through the bag until he found the faded black jeans and dark green long sleeve shirt. Underwear and ankle socks too. He was sure that there was blood everywhere and in everything at this point.

He pulled them out and dropped the bag down before setting the clothes there. He stood straight and crossed his arms, looking back at the guy again and his eyes drew to the arm, the shining piece of metal hanging on his side. He frowned slightly at seeing all the scarring on the skin where the metal was attached and it looked more like someone just melted it in place instead of professionally attaching it. It made him wonder if it hurt, but the thought was forced to the back of his mind as he turned to look away. He knew how he hated staring and he knew for a fact that this guy probably hated it a lot more.

“Clothes for you,” he gestured to them and glanced back at the guy to see him pause again and look up at him before glancing to the clothes and then back at him, still calculating and thinking, gauging him. It seems like he always used his brain for something, even if it was just looking at someone. Not really surprising if he was trained to.

“Thanks,” his voice was still rough and deep, still quiet like he was afraid of speaking too loud or he was used to the silence. He gave a nod and took a few steps back until he was leaning on the metal doorframe where a door should be. He wasn’t gonna not guard him now that he was back. He wanted to keep an eye on him.

Frank glanced in to see the Soldier start to strip, pants dropping, no underwear and yeah, he was covered in blood under his clothes from where it sank through. Some of it looked dried, or it was drying and the guy clearly didn’t care about getting naked in front of someone. He watched from the corner of his eye as he grabbed the cloth from the water, cold at this point, and started cleaning it up, not being gentle at all over the bruises he had there like he didn’t care about the pain.

“Oh my god,” Frank looked up and towards the Hub, where he saw Lieberman standing there with a hand thrown over his eyes, coffee in hand. “I didn’t need to see that,” he complained and turned away, hand lifting so that he could see where he was putting his mug before he sat down with his back facing towards them. Frank said that when the guy was wasted that one time. Still didn’t stop him from showing off what he had under that robe.

Turning back, Frank saw that nothing that was said phased him, he was still cleaning himself up in the cold water and running a towel over his skin. 

A few more minutes and he was reaching out to the clothes, underwear first and slipped them on, socks second and then the jeans. He sat down to put his boots back on, no blood on them and it made him think that maybe he cleaned the blood off while Frank was out. He stepped into them and laced them up. He stood and grabbed the shirt, slipping his arms in before his head and it was then that he realized just how big he was compared to the Soldier. The sleeves were hanging to his knuckles, the neck was okay but big enough to show the very edge of the scarring on his left shoulder. He could see some deeper colour of the skin on the scarring. And the left of the torso passed his hips enough that the Soldier tucked the hem into his pants, a belt now on his waist from the blood covered jeans. None of it seems to bother the guy, the length or the fact that he was wearing someone else's clothes. Didn’t bother Frank either, but he did stare for a few lingering seconds. He fit frank’s style of clothing like it was his own. It looked good on him.

\--------------------

Bucky took the time to actually enjoy the feel of being in clothes that were clean and warm, warmer since they were in a heated car. It must’ve been cold out and the guy had the heater on or something, but either way, he almost wanted to run his hands over the shirt on his body to feel it on his skin. Someone people like Steve and Barton and Wilson thought that he didn’t feel the cold, having been based in Russian for most of his time as the Soldier, but it did get to him, he was just an expert at not showing it and ignoring it. But sometimes, he did take pleasure in it, one of those times being now.

He could feel the gaze on him and glanced over at the bigger guy, watching him for a moment. He was eyeing him over, but not in a sense of appreciating the view or anything, he was just… watching, but not guarding. He wasn’t sure how to explain it, he was just eyeing him over like he was gauging how he looked in the clothes, but he couldn’t tell if he liked it or not.

He eyed him in return, gaze narrowing before he took a step towards the doorless doorway experimentally. There was more staring before the bigger guy stepped aside slightly. So he wasn’t prisoner to just the bedroom then. He could walk around. He headed through the Hub area, circling the one the big guy called Lieberman and saw him flinch and turn his chair enough to watch him. The boots walking behind him told him that he was being followed by the larger of the two as he strode into the kitchen. He was thirsty.

Bucky stepped in and headed over to the coffee machine, the jar still pretty much full. It was still hot too. He saw the few mugs turned upside down and grabbed one, glancing over his shoulder at the big guy who was now leaning against the counter on the other end of the room, ankles and arms crossed and he was still watching him.

“How d’you have your coffee,” it wasn’t really a question, more of an invitation. He had the impression that he was in thought for a moment, the way the thoughtful expression passed by fast as he eyed him. Bucky set his mug down beside the coffee machine, still eyeing him in return. He had a feeling that most of their conversation would be expressed with stares, no actual verbal words spoken, just stares.

“Don’t do it, he might poison it,”  _ Lieberman _ called from the Hub and he rolled his eyes and went about making himself coffee, feeling the jar with his flesh hand to make sure that it was still warm. He assumed that maybe the answer would’ve been  _ No _ to the coffee anyway. The guy was trained and was still guarded, so there was still a heavy lack of trust there. It didn’t surprise him. He was simply being polite.

“Black, two sugars,” Bucky immediately paused before pouring, standing there with the jug in hand and he turned to stare at the guy, eyes narrowing as he slowly put the jar down. There was a long silence and the big guy just shrugged like it was nothing. He still doubted that there was any trust there, but he accepted a coffee from him? Lieberman was right in that he could poison him, but he didn’t seem worried about it.

Bucky was still eyeing him as he reached for another mug, placing it beside his own and then went about dropping the sugar in before lifting the jug and pouring the hot coffee into both, turning away from the big guy to watch how much he was pouring in. Once they were full he set the jug down and stirred the mugs, picking both up and setting one down closer to the man, both hands now wrapped around his mug, his flesh hand taking pleasure in the warmth.

“You’re really gonna drink that?” the guy in the Hub was staring at them, Bucky shifting back until he was leaning against the counter. He could feel and see the guy in his peripheral vision reaching out and picking the other mug up. Now, he was sure that he was just doing this to irritate Lieberman because he turned directly towards him and took a gulp of the coffee, aiming the action at him and Bucky simply quirked a brow at them as he sipped his own, tasting and enjoying the heat. “He probably poisoned it!”

“Did you?” he took another sip and turned to look at the big guy, a flat expression on Bucky’s face that gave him his answer, that no, he didn’t and that it should’ve been obvious since he’d watched him the entire time. Bucky wasn’t that stupid.

“Poison’s a coward's weapon,” he replied like it was an obvious answer, that itself being a good enough answer and he continued to drink his own coffee. He saw the big guy shrug and just continue drinking, the Lieberman guy giving an exasperated wave of his arms before just resigning and returning to whatever he’d been doing.


	4. Chapter 4

Frank could see that the guy wasn’t asleep. He knew that the guy knew that Frank knew. He didn’t hide it by easing out his breathing while he was facing away on the extra bed that Lieberman dragged out of storage. He was still wearing his clothes, the hem down pulled out from his pants so the shirt didn’t pull or tug when he shifted, which was never. He hadn’t turned over once in the last three hours and he knew for a fact that the guy was wide awake.

He just kept watching him as the minutes passed slowly and still, nothing. Frank was sitting in the entrance to the room, Lieberman having moved his bed to the centre room where the hub is because he thought it was safer than the bedroom itself where Frank wanted him to be. A narrow space where Frank had the advantage of being on the outside of the room. It would be a little easier to handle the soldier.

He doubted that he’d have trouble though. The guy’s posture was more resigned than tense and ready to fight. It was like he resigned to the fact that he couldn’t sleep, that was all Frank could really see in his posture. He wasn’t stiff or tense, just fed up and tired.

“Can’t sleep?” Frank asked quietly in the silence, not bothered if he got a reply or not. He didn’t care, he was just testing the waters after hours of silence from the Soldier. Couldn’t be too careful.

“No,” the soldier replied flatly, not bothering to turn over to see him as he replied. His tone sounded deeper, grittier, maybe a little groggier like he actually tried sleeping but couldn’t. It was probably because he was being watched. Frank knew that he wouldn’t be able to sleep if he had eyes on him.

“How come,” he asked anyway, lifting his boots up onto a glassless frame of the so-called  _walls_ around the bedroom, the things that sectioned off each room from the Hub. He could see the stillness become stiff, seeing the guy tense slightly for a few seconds. There was just a long pause before he shifted on the bed, not turning over or moving at all, he just moved his arms or something, getting comfortable maybe.

“Tired of nightmares,” the Soldier eventually answered and Frank swore that there was a crack in his voice as he said it. Like it was something he didn’t like saying or maybe it was a confession he’d never told anyone. Either way, Frank didn’t point it out or focus on it. He knew that he’d hate it if someone called him out on it.

“Even the Winter Soldier gets ‘em, huh?” at that, he saw the guy’s head turn, a tired glare on his face and it was aimed at Frank, eyes unwavering as they stared at him. He didn’t let them get to him or get under his skin, simply huffing in mild bemusement before continuing. “What scares you?” his tone came out sceptical and Frank hadn’t actually meant it to sound that way, it was just that it was a bit of a surprise that The Winter Soldier of all people had something that kept him awake at night.

The Winter Soldier was a nightmare for anyone and everyone, could scare someone by just saying that name at this point. Say his name and you’re looking over your shoulder in case it’s like the Bloody Mary bullshit you used to do in the mirror as a kid. He was the most dangerous man and the most dangerous man was kept awake at nights, afraid of something or avoiding something.

“The faces,” Frank paused, a frown growing on his face as he stared at the Soldier who was staring up at the ceiling. He watched him closely, Frank deducing that it wasn’t a lie. There was no tells or giveaways. He was being honest and it was unexpected. He didn’t expect that kind of answer. But he understood it. He knew what he meant by it. The ones he killed were haunting him, every time his eyes were closed...

“I getcha,” he said quietly, not intending it to be directed at the Soldier, which it wasn’t. It seemed more like he’d said it to himself, his gaze dropping and looking away for just a few seconds before he turned them back on the Soldier and saw the way he was watching him. There was no pity, just understanding and he didn’t call it out. Frank watched him in return and cleared his throat, deciding to change the conversation. “How long you gone without sleep?” _great change..._

“We talkin’ a nap or heavy sleepin’?” it seemed as though he was a bit more verbal like he was actively trying to have a chat, to distract himself or to avoid the silence or sleep, he wasn’t sure, could’ve been all three. And by the flat stare that Frank gave him, he huffed and just answered again. “Just over a week,” how long could this guy go before he collapsed? Frank wouldn’t last a full week without shut eye. He’d barely last half a week.

“You need sleep,” he pointed out like an old lady talking to her grandson and he just shook his head and dropped it back against the headrest of the seat, staring up at the ceiling. There was a huff in the background and he angled his head enough to see that the Soldier was turning over, lying on his left with the metal arm sliding under the pillow so that the pillow was between his head and arm.

“Not like I’m gonna get it,” he muttered after looking like he was comfortable. They had their eyes on each other, both tired and Frank just shrugged in reply to what was said. Nothing they could do about it.

“I’m not about to read you a bedtime story,” Frank scoffed softly, intending to lighten the mood a bit and distract the guy. He looked like that was what he was after, a way to keep talking or just someway to keep from sleeping.

“You think I was hoping for one?” the guy scoffed back, a forced lazy smile tugging a little at the corner of his lips like he was actually amused by it. “You start singin’ a kids lullaby and I’m gonna get up and gag you,” he then added, the smirk growing just a bit and Frank laughed breathily and deeply, shoulders shaking a little as he stared at the Soldier.

“So you _do_ have a sense of humour,” that drew a soft bemused huff from the guy and for a second, he thought that that expression suited him better than the doom and gloom he’d seem since he brought him to the hideout. “And FYI, Winter, I have a great voice, your loss,” he shrugged, seeing his eyes widen and then stare at him, messing around and making it seem like he was genuinely in disbelief about it.

“Bullshit,” he replied curtly and returned to the soft smirk and half lidded eyes. He could see that he was tired, he was just fighting it. Frank knew that feeling too well.

“Don’t believe me?” he faked an incredulous tone, staring at the guy with both brows raised high with an offended look on his face. This was actually surprise-, not what they were talking about. What surprised him was that they were actually having a decent conversation and there was some form of amusement there, enough that they were joking around.

“Nope,” Frank shook his head and dropped it back against the headrest again, staring up at the ceiling. He had decent and amusing conversations. Lieberman, Curtis, Red, Karen. Before all this, back when he was on the frontlines, it was always Russo and Gunner and a few other guys, but the Winter Soldier? That was something he couldn’t imagine and yet here he was was after having a good chat with the guy and he even laughed too.

From what he knew, the guy was just a really decked out and Enhanced Soldier with a metal arm, a guy turned weapon, master assassin, a cold blooded killer that was a nightmare. Would give nightmares by just catching a glimpse of him and here he was, a tired smile on his face and he made jokes. The guy had a sense of humour and he looked human. He heard him being called a mass murdering monster and he looked way more human than a lot of people Frank met over the years.

He seemed so far from a monster, especially with a smile like that and having confessed that he had nightmares about the ones he killed only made him seem more human. A weapon with nightmares, just made him a normal person.

“Said your name was Bucky?” he asked after a long while, angling his head so that he could see him. He saw the lack of a smile, like he was stuck in his own head and was thinking about something else, something that was distracting him and then he turned his head towards Frank, watching him for a few seconds, eyeing him over calculatingly.

“Didn’t mind Winter,” he saw him shrug against the bed, still watching him and Frank thought it over for a moment. He called him Winter because it was just there on the tip of his tongue after repeatedly calling him the Winter Soldier. Calling him Bucky made him feel too close like there was an acquaintanceship there or that they had some form of alliance.

Couldn’t just keep calling him Winter Soldier though and he knew that the other guy probably needed or wanted a name. He hadn’t called him anything since he brought him in, so what had he been calling them to tell them apart?

“Frank,” he introduced. It wasn’t like telling him his first name was a death sentence or that he’d find anything against him. It was just a first name. A lot of people were called Frank. The guy probably knew a few.

“That an alias?” the Soldier quirked a brow questioningly at him but didn’t seem to actually question it. He was just making conversation again in the silence. Or sort of silence, what with David snoring behind him in his own bed.

“For you to decide,” he shrugged in return, eyeing him for a few second before turning his head to look back at the ceiling again. He felt like he didn’t need to watch him every minute of every day. He’d left the day before to get him clothes and he hadn’t killed the Hacker and he was sure that the guy wouldn’t try to kill them at this point either. He seemed more exasperated and too resigned. He didn’t seem like he would do anything against them, unless he was just that dangerous that he was luring them into a false sense of security before he’d take them down.


	5. Chapter 5

Bucky had figured out pretty fast that there was something big about these two. It was obvious since they were in a literal hideout, a basement out of the way where everything inside belonged to Lieberman and that he was an intense Hacker. He’d seen him hacking through firewalls like they were nothing and lasted longer than any hacker in Hydra in the database. Lieberman had to be one of the best he’d seen if he didn’t count Stark, T’Challa, Barton, Romanoff and Nick Fury. And he didn’t need to get close to be able to see what he was doing, Frank body-guarding him or not.

Speaking of Frank. He had his attention. Bucky was watching the man, watching him fix up the engine in the van. It wasn’t like he really had a choice. The guy wanted him closeby, so he was ordered to take a seat, which he did. Bucky was sat on a swivel chair, arms crossed over his chest, ankles crossed with his legs out straight. He was effectively lounging there, head tilted so that he could see Frank and so that Frank could see him. He knew that there was still a huge lack of trust there and he didn’t blame him, but back to the subject.

Frank. He knew the face, knew that name and yeah, there was a lot of people called Frank, but none of them was this man. He vaguely remembered files with faces, they came as a flash when he managed to get a drop of shut-eye. It was what woke him up. The face, the name. Someone saying that name in the background with the title  _ ‘Lieutenant’ _ rolling off of his tongue before the name  _ ‘Frank’. _ The image he saw was this guy, this guy’s boss, at the time, was on Hydra’s payroll. A few things were funded by Hydra and he knew that the team didn’t know because Hydra wanted that. They didn’t want anyone knowing that Hydra had their hands in their operations. Because then, that would mean that they actually lost WWII.

He was sure that Frank didn’t know because he still saved him, even after seeing that Bucky was Hydra, as the Winter Soldier, not as Bucky.

Anyway, he saw the file, saw the faces and names. Frank… Castle. Frank Castle, the guy that was on the loose in Hell’s Kitchen. The guy that took out the Irish, took out the gangs via bullets and lack of emotion. The man that scared people, maybe even as much as the Winter Soldier did. They had more in common than Bucky would like to admit.

The Military background. The kills they carried out. The loss. The pain. The betrayal. The fact that they served their country, got into some bad shit and they were credited and deemed bad guys and were hunted and haunted after all these years. They were cut from the same cloth and Bucky wasn’t going to compare. He wouldn’t even point this out. Frank Castle, being the man that he is, isn’t the kind of person that should hear any of this. If he was anything like Bucky, and he was sure he was in some ways, he wouldn’t want to hear it. Bucky wouldn’t.

“Why you starin’,” it wasn’t a question and it drew him from his thoughts, making him realize that he had actually been staring and was currently being stared at. He had a good reason, but he just hadn’t realized that he was looking at him for that long.

“Didn’t mean to,” Bucky shrugged, glancing away and down, now staring at the steel-toe-caps he was wearing. The boots with the metal inside to safeguard the toes. “Just thinkin’,” and he continued to do so and be aware of what was around him and who was there. He was multitasking.

“Didn’t answer my question,” he could hear the suspicion in his tone, but it was light like he was just warning him instead of threatening him. It was like he was giving him a chance to fess up. Bucky turned to look at him again, seeing that he was still watching him, his gaze flicking between the engine and bucky as he kept messing with it.

“Figured out who you are,” the sound of the clicking from Frank’s tool stopped and he blinked, seeing Frank’s eyes dead set on him, closed up, guarded, walls built high and he was completely suspicious now, cautious. “After you gave me your name, your face seemed familiar. Had a piece of memory come back to when I saw you,”

“Where’d you see me?” again, it didn’t sound much like a question and his expression was cold and blank, hiding whatever he was thinking because it was the Winter Soldier he was talking to, Bucky knew that. He was trying harder than he usually did to hide whatever could appear on his face when talking to Bucky.

“In a file, your face, title and your name, Lieutenant Frank Castle,” the Soldier glanced away, back to his boot as he saw the way his eyes widened at hearing that. It was no wonder that he would be surprised at that, maybe more so that Bucky had a file on him. Bucky didn’t actually have the file, Hydra did. He’d just seen it and remembered the face after getting a flashback.

Weird thing was, Bucky himself had been surprised. What were the chances that the Punisher would get involved by saving the Winter Soldier. The two scariest men and they were currently in the same room, talking it out that Bucky read a file on him. They knew each other, the only difference was, Frank knew him from the news and from the papers and other things, public things that everyone else knew. Bucky knew Frank from files that Hydra had.

“That was years ago,” the man’s voice was deeper, darker. Like remembering it hurt him. Bucky wasn’t surprised and he really didn’t mean to make him feel that bad. He hadn’t meant to even bring it up. He bit the inside of his lip, chewing on the gum for a moment because although they had different reasons for feeling hurt by their past, it reminded Bucky of his own. The train and then Hydra when they put him through the torture of cutting the rest of his arm off to fit up the metal one.

Bucky took a deep breath and glanced at his chest where his arms were crossed, staring at the shine of the metal hand half hidden under his right arm. The rest of it was hidden by the sleeve of the shirt Frank let him use. The knuckles and fingers could be seen and even though it was a small portion that could be seen, he could feel all of it, not physically, but mentally. Neurally. 

“When I was a part of Hydra,” Bucky brought up in the silence, making sure that his tone hadn’t changed with the drop in his emotion. He was far better at hiding his feelings than Frank was, that was for sure. “Never saw your file as the Punisher ‘cause I got outta Hydra before that happened. I read that name before though,” he elaborated, not sure if he should be talking still. He doubted that it was doing any good in their situation.

“From where?” Frank asked after a few long seconds and Bucky glanced towards his direction from the corner of his eye, not really looking at him, but just looking that way. He didn’t sound entirely happy, if anything he was still out of it, his tone still dark, but it was more like he was trying to gather information on what Bucky knew, maybe trying to gauge how much of a threat he was depending on how much he actually knew. That was what Bucky would do.

“A group of you assigned to a mission in Kandahar,” Bucky finally glanced up at him, but not in the eye. He was searching him calculatingly, looking at his posture and he was tense, guarded and ready to spring if the wrong thing was said. Bucky couldn’t remember that much. It was only a few seconds of a flashback and all he really remembered or focused on was Frank’s name, title and face. He picked up the information as he stared at him. That he was on an illegal mission funded by Hydra and that it got a lot of people killed and there was a lot of hush hush around it.

“How d’you know about that,” he watched as Frank put the tool down, fists clenched and that was when Bucky started tightening up, ready in case the big guy snapped. He looked him in the eye, a crease drawing at his brow. He didn’t want to have to fight him. Even though Bucky had the strength too and would win, regardless of the bruises and that he was still a little hurt, he didn’t want to. He didn’t want to fight anymore. But he’d put him down if it came to it.

“I was the Winter Soldier at the time and only got a flash of memory, but I remember something about a team that Hydra funded with this guy that was in control. Two Lieutenants in the team. You being one of them,” he continued to watch him and unfolded his ankles, boots now flat on the concrete floor, bent at the knee and he turned the chair until he was facing the other soldier.

“You said Hydra funded it?” Frank stepped away from the van, getting closer to him and gradually coming to a stop a few feet away from him. He didn’t look pissed, not even dark about what was said about the mission, about him mentioning Kandahar.

“Pierce, the Head Of Hydra at the time. I was brought out of Cryostasis when he had a meeting with the guy and had the file on the table,” Bucky had actually been standing behind Pierce, being used as an intimidation to keep the other guy at the other end of the table with the fear tactic and it worked. There had been a moment where he’d almost snapped about what payment he could and couldn’t have, but a simple command and the Soldier was focused on him, scaring him to sit down and take the offer by just glaring at him.

“With me, now,” Bucky was swiftly drawn from his thoughts when a hand reached out and grabbed the back of the chair, dragging it over to the stairs with Bucky still sat in it and Frank pulling. His heart and skipped in reaction and he spun around, now facing the stairs that Frank was jogging up. “Lieberman!” the soldier ordered and Bucky climbed to his feet and jogged up after Frank, confused by the reaction.

“Wh-what?! What’s wrong! Did the Winter Sold-,” Lieberman stopped whatever he was about to say when he saw Bucky following behind the man. “What?” he then asked like he thought this was just some false alarm. Honestly, he looked as confused as Bucky felt because he had no idea what got Frank so animated.

“Bring up the scope image of Orange, now,” at the order, the Hacker started doing just that, taking a few seconds longer than what he thought the other soldier liked because he started seeming ansty the longer it took. And as soon as it showed up, the familiar face struck him. “This guy! D’you know who he is?” Currently,  the Director of Covert Ops, a very similar job to that of Pierce when he was alive.

“William, William Rawlins. He was in Hydra’s pocket when I was still there,” he answered simply, shrugging slightly because he didn’t see how much of a big deal he was with these guys. “He was the guy from the meeting,” wait-... 

Bucky frowned, thoughts suddenly clicking like a big puzzle coming together. Frank Castle was apart of the team that this man brought together when Hydra funded the mission for the man. Hydra bumped Rawlins up and since the operation was illegal and it was connected to Hydra, they were loose ends. Frank was a loose end to this, maybe the last one alive. Bucky doubted that they’d leave the team alive. Was that why Frank was hiding out? Did the mission come back to bite him in the ass?

“You saw him? And you’re sure this is him?” Lieberman drew him from his thoughts, his tone showing that he needed to be absolutely sure. And Bucky was. That face was an imprint on his mind. He was the man from the meeting with Pierce. He was the one that the Winter Soldier scared to sit down. Though he didn’t have a screwed up eye at the time.

“I never forget a face,” he answered with a deadly serious tone and he saw the way Lieberman shifted a few inches closer to his computer, away from bucky who was still frowning. “And I never saw him after the meeting,” he added, drawing the darker tone from his voice to seem like he was just simply answering questions again. Was Bucky frank’s information pool now?

“D’you know anything else about him?” Frank was immediately up in his space, standing so close that the bigger man had to look down and that Bucky had to look up to be able to make eye contact.

“I was brainwashed at the time. My memory’s in pieces,” he saw the expression darken completely, anger clear on his face that Bucky didn’t have any more info and that he was probably a dead end.

“Try,” his tone was dropped, dangerous with a sharp enough edge that it’d be able to get through Bucky’s walls of muscle. It didn’t scare him, but it did make him twitchy, his body feeling like he was about to be attacked and he had to stop himself from deciding between taking a step back or shoving the other man back. Instead, he went for aggressively informative.

“You can try to intimidate me all you want, it’s not gonna help me remember when I couldn’t even remember my own name until  _ weeks _ after I got out from Hydra,” his tone had deepened, turned much darker and he made himself seem a lot more threatening to the point that he saw Frank swallow, seeing his apple shift. It was one helluvan example and he really hoped that Frank kept that in mind.

Bucky stared him down, scowling harshly before taking a step away and standing on the other side of the Hub, arms crossed tight over his chest even though his chest felt tight anyway. He felt like there was scratching under his skin and he really didn’t like it because either the Winter Soldier had tried breaking through or Frank had actually gotten under his skin and both were not ideal.

“Found him,” Lieberman called in the silence, his fingers having been tapping away at his keyboard while he and Frank verbally duked it out. “William ‘Bill’ Rawlins III. He’s the director of covert operations for the CIA,” his tone wavered and Bucky glanced over, noting that Frank was directly focusing his gaze somewhere else, he actually seemed like he felt awkward there. “He’s not some Agent running rogue. It takes a guy like this to pull it all together and make it stick,” Bucky frowned, scoffing some which gained the attention.

“He had Hydra backing him up. He wouldn’t have been able to make it stick without them,” there was an unspoken  _ duh _ at the end of that sentence because it was that obvious. If Hydra was involved in something like this, it’d be them making it look like it was someone else's fault and they’d make it look good.

“Injured in the line of duty, my ass. That’s from me smashin’ his eye in,” so he was the guy that screwed up his eye? Was Bucky not meant to feel proud of Frank beating him blind? “Sonofa-bitch used that to climb the ladder,”

“That and he was born at the top of the ladder. The Rawlinses are practically Royalty. They’re the power behind the throne. Old, old Virginia money. Plantations, shipping and industry, arms. I mean, who knows what else they have their hands in,” Bucky didn’t think it ran that deep. It made more sense as to why Hydra allowed him in on whatever was going on that easily.

“No wonder Hydra didn’t kill him,” he muttered more to himself like he was the only one listening and he saw the two turn towards him, eyeing him for a few seconds.

“What d’you mean?” Lieberman spoke up, seeming a bit more confident when talking to him. Frank was silent, seeming to only want to listen for a few seconds. It didn’t really bother him, but he hoped that their little snap at each other didn’t affect their-... he wouldn’t call it a relationship because there’s nothing there.

“Hydra hates loose ends and Rawlins is just that, but he’s still alive,” he shrugged, the fact that he was still alive just added more questions than answered them. Hydra always took out loose ends and Rawlings was a big one, sat in a big chair. It wasn’t like Hydra couldn’t make it look like an accident.

“Would they kill him?” Lieberman again chirped up, glancing at the picture and then turning back to Bucky. Frank was still looking at him, looking like he was taking it all in and organizing it all in his head.

“Yeah, but maybe he’s still involved,” that could actually be a reason why he was still alive, and maybe it was why Hydra agents were there. The grunts of Hydra anyway. Rawlins could still be working in Hydra even though Pierce was gone. There was always a new head in the organization. Cut one off, another would take its place.

“What’s your gut say,” Frank finally spoke up and Bucky glanced over, staring at him for a long moment before thinking it out fast and simple and placing the pieces together.

“He was in Hydra’s pocket before Cerberus, they funded the operation. My guess is, when it was done, they bumped him up the ranks and paid him for it and he still wanted more, so they let him stick around,” he shook his head, reaching a hand up to thread his fingers through his hair. There was more to it and he knew that but there was no way he could find out unless he physically dug through what he could, but that meant being too risky and it meant that he might get caught. Rawlins was a powerful guy now and that was the issue. It could mean that he was closer to being a boss in Hydra, not  _ The Head, _ but one of them below the throne.

“This guy doesn’t need money,” Lieberman scoffed like he thought that was the only way of payment and Bucky just stared at him with a flat expression, staring at him hard, deadpanned.

“I didn’t say they paid him in cash,” there were so many ways to get paid when it came to Hydra. Any kind of currency, it didn’t matter.


	6. Chapter 6

Bucky was in the background again, listening to them, watching them. After the Soldier had said his part Lieberman started freaking out about how their cover was probably blown after this, after the fact that he searched that particular man up and Frank was talking back, making a show that no one was after them because nothing was said about them on the database that Lieberman had been scrolling through all day, nothing.

It started to make a lot more sense as to why they were hiding now and Bucky had just been drawn into it. Bucky had the files in his mind, knew about the operation, enough that he knew Frank would want to keep him around in case he remembered more and even more about the fact that Bucky knew who he was before this Punisher stuff happened. Bucky wasn’t entirely up to date on that, but it wasn’t like he couldn’t find out.

“I’m goin’ ta make coffee. Want me to get you something?” Bucky drew himself from his thoughts when he saw the other Soldier move to stand, wheeling the chair out from behind him before turning and heading towards the kitchen. Bucky’s gaze followed him, watching him closely. He seemed pretty calm now, shoulders less tense.

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll have some chamomile. Thanks,” Lieberman muttered distractedly as he stared at the pc screens. Bucky could see him through his peripheral vision and he was just dead to them at this point, eyes fixated before he started typing up and scrolling through the stuff on the screen.

“Some chamomile, huh?” it sounded like Frank found it funny and Bucky just glanced between him and the Hacker before pushing from the other desk where he’d been leaning and started striding towards the kitchen area. “You want somethin’? You want some  _ chamomile _ too?” the way he said the word as he glanced at Bucky, he was definitely making fun of it.

“I’ll have coffee,” he replied with a deadpanned tone, a very small, forced smirk drawing at the corner of his lips as he sat down. It didn’t seem like their earlier standoff affected them in any way, which he was thankful for. Bucky didn’t want there to be anything bad between them, not when he was actually stuck down in the hideout without any kind of plan as to how he could save his own ass and get back to Steve.

“So, how d’s it work? The whole memory thing,” Bucky snapped from his thoughts and stared at Frank, eyes locking with his and he just stayed still, motionless like a statue. “You said your head’s in pieces and some of it comes back to you… and you said somethin’ about bein’ brainwashed,” the coffee was on and Frank turned to him, crossing his arms over the bar as he sat down on a stool on the other side of it.

Bucky wasn’t entirely sure he should be saying anything, but from his perspective, he couldn’t use any of it against him at this point. No one could unless it was Stark or some kind of courthouse, but he doubted that they would now. Everything went to shit because of Hydra. Besides, he guessed that he owed some kind of explanation for earlier when he started talking about it. He didn’t elaborate in the best way as to how he knew him.

“I sometimes get parts of a memory. Flashes, bits and pieces. Sometimes more, sometimes less. It’s like a trigger. When I hear something or see something that I’ve seen before, back when I was the Winter Soldier, I’ll get a piece of a memory from that moment… sometimes,” Frank was lucky he even got a memory for something so specific. Normally, all Bucky got memories of were the ones he killed and the torture and pain and all the horror. They were lucky that there hadn’t been screaming before he woke up. Because that was how he usually woke up.

“In this case, my name and face?” Bucky nodded, still watching him as he took all of it in and seemed to work through it as they were talking. He saw no judgement. “You keep saying stuff like  _ ‘When I was the Winter Soldier’ _ like you’re not the guy,” again, no judgement, even when that was the kind of question that Bucky hated trying to answer. He’d had to draw them out, literally, for T’Challa and his workers, the ones that fixed up his arm.

There was a moment where he saw Frank open his mouth like he was about to ask something and then he closed it, watching Bucky like he was considering something. He was being hesitant, he could see that in the way he clenched his jaw, the muscles tensing for a moment, enough for him to catch it. And then he opened his mouth again.

“What happened?” his tone sounded strained like he was still thinking about the question as he’d asked it and then his expression locked up completely. “Actually, you know-... don’t have to say anythi-,” Bucky watched as he waved his hands in dismissal and he just cleared his throat, cutting him off.

“They wiped my memory so that they had a clean slate to work with,” he paused for a moment, biting the inside of his lip as he gauged Frank’s tense and stoic exterior. He looked maybe surprised that Bucky even answered. And he’d continue. “They needed an empty canvas to imprint on. I keep saying the name like it’s not me because… it’s like a coin with two heads,” he shrugged, dropping his gaze to where his own arms were crossed, again staring at the metal of his fingers and knuckles, the sleeve of Frank’s shirt still covering most of the hand.

“A split personality?” Frank asked after a moment, his voice a bit grittier than before and he looked up from his hand to stare at the guy. He was holding the coffee jar but hadn't poured anything. He seemed intent on listening to what Bucky had to say and not judging until he knew enough. It was… a nice feeling. To actually be listened too and not judged so quickly. Like someone was being the ear for him instead of him being the ear for everyone else. To be used.

“Something like that, but when one mind’s awake the other isn’t. If he’s awake, I won’t be,” Bucky purposely made it seem like more of a warning for the future, for if he was triggered and if the monster woke up and took over. “We’re the same mind, but he’s dormant until he’s triggered,” he then shrugged, still staring at it. Bucky decided that maybe it was a good thing he was telling Frank this, that maybe he’d see the difference between wanting to know and needing to know. Bucky was, in a way, preparing him in case it happened.

“Like the memories?” he was catching on, but it was a different kind of trigger. Bucky wouldn’t give him the words. He’d never give anyone the words. Bucky wasn’t stupid and he still didn’t trust them enough to give them that kind of knowledge of how to wake up the Soldier. That was almost as stupid as Steve driving the plane into the ice. Or giving an idiot an explosive detonation button.

“No. There’s… a really specific way to bring the Soldier out and fortunately, only the very heads of Hydra know it,” he shrugged in reply and watched as the mugs were poured, a cup being passed over and place in front of him. The three cups were done, but Frank made no move to pass Lieberman’s over. He was interested in what was being discussed and he didn’t blame him for wanting to know more. Bucky wanted to know more himself so that he could actually fix it.

“How’s ‘at a good thing?” Frank sat down, closer. He had a frown creased into his brow like he wanted to know why Bucky said ‘fortunately’. It was obvious and he knew that the other knew why he said it. Or maybe he didn’t and Bucky hadn’t made it clear in the way he said it.

“Because I killed them,” he shrugged, grabbing the mug with his flesh hand to keep his metal one covered up. He lifted it and took a sip, feeling the burn of the coffee against his lips. It was a good coffee, he’d give him that.

He glanced at him, eyeing him over and he could see the way he watched him, gauging him in return. No judgement. He was just calculating and searching. Frank was staring at him like a soldier eyeing a prisoner, a prisoner that he knew was innocent.

“Guess the Winter Soldier ain’t the only one that’s killed, huh?” but Bucky wasn’t innocent. He huffed bemusedly at that, half forced to show that he acknowledged what was said. He knew that Frank could see that Bucky was a soldier, and not just  _ The Soldier. _ An actual soldier, from the front lines, having gone through the same wars, or at least the same kind of wars.

\--------------------

“Frank!” at his name, he looked over to David, eyes wide and he stood up when he saw him freaking over one of the monitors in the Hub. Frank looked back to Winter, patting his hand on the table with a huff before moving, rounding the bar table.

“What?” he asked simply, stepping out into the Hub area. From the sound before him, the Soldier was behind him, but a good ways away. Lieberman was still freaking out over the monitor, frantically button mashing a keyboard pretty hard.

“Uh-, the cameras in my house are down,” he replied slowly and started mashing more buttons on the other keyboards. Whatever was going on was making him panic. “I can’t- I can’t access the feed to my house right now,” the Hacker stopped and then stood in the middle of the room, staring at the black screens on the monitor. All the cams were down. No wonder he was panicking.

“You need to get over there now and check on my family,” his tone was getting grittier and more rushed. His face was changing, his expression turning to scared, but not for himself. It looked like he was about to have a nervous fit or something.

“Wait a second. David, I just-,” before he could get any further into his sentence, he saw Lieberman grab one of the chairs and throw it aside, immediately getting up into his face.

“You need to check on my family right now!” and just as fast, he heard and felt the Soldier behind him, the snap in his step. Frank instantly put a hand on Liberman’s chest and swirled his head around to see the Soldier standing near the other entrance to the kitchen area. He looked guarded and wired like it was impulse and he wanted out. Conflict maybe, the conflict made him move. He didn’t like it. It didn’t look like he was about to attack or run though. He was standing there, analysing them.

“All right, all right, I’m on it,” Frank replied flatly, eyes still on the guy for a few more seconds before turning back to Lieberman and patting his shoulder. He started walking to the car and stopped to get his jackets on, turning to see that the Soldier was still there by the other doorway. “If he’s dead when I get back-,” he trailed off with a warning, seeing him nod and slowly step back into the room and out of sight.

\----------

Frank couldn’t see anyone inside. The place was empty and yeah, that was a little suspicious, made the gears in his head turn, thinking out what could’ve happened. He waited a few seconds, trying to see through the front door and knocked again, for the umpteenth time. After more nothing, Frank stepped away and rounded the house until he was slowly walking up the driveway, keeping his eyes and ears sharp just in case.

It didn’t seem like anything was going on inside. It seemed empty like no one was there. Something was wrong, but he couldn’t put his finger on it, on  _ why _ something would be wrong. His hair was starting to stand on end, his lizard wasn’t acting up though.

He stepped up to the door, looking in and glancing around and again, saw nothing. He stepped away, thinking that maybe they were out and just shut everything off. Or maybe the mains just blew and Lieberman’s wife didn’t know. There was more of a chance that this was just something normal over something related to them-

Frank snapped around when he heard something, seeing Sarah stepping outside with trash bags in hand.

“Hey,” he called with barely any emotion. He saw her immediately jump away from the door, the trash being thrown around inside the bags.

“-Jesus!” he actually scared, but that wasn’t too hard when you were Frank. Plus, stalking around and waiting outside and around the house would scare anyone. And she was a jumpy person anyway, which made it that little bit easier to scare her.

“I didn’t mean to scare you,” Frank chuckled forcefully, trying to lighten the mood a bit. It was a bit awkward on his part. “I tried the front. There was no answer, so I, uh, I just-... I don’t know, to thank you. You know, apology, whatever. You could-, you could pick,” he forced another chuckle, averting his eyes and glancing around before they stopped on the trash again. “Maybe I could trade?” he reached his hand out for the bags and she chuckled less awkwardly as she handed them over and swapped them for the flowers he picked up. “Great, thank you. Alright, that’s for you,” and again, awkward. He cleared his throat while she stared at them, thanking him. “What do I do with these?”

“Uh-, trash cans are over there,” she pointed out and he turned, seeing them and headed over.

\----------

“Thank you,” Frank leant back against the counter, watching her put the flowers in the vase of water and mess with them for a second. 

“Sure,” nothing seemed to be wrong inside the house. The kids weren’t there, just her and everything was off. No buzz of electricity or anything. The house was empty, bar for her and she didn’t seem hurt or anything. She was happy looking, all smiles. They were still a bit awkward, standing there in the kitchen in silence.

“Uh-, d’you-... d’you wanna join me for a drink?” Sarah asked after a moment, seeming to try and fill that silence and he stared at her for a long second, eyeing her while she stared back, hands on the island in the middle of the kitchen.

“Mm, sure, yeah,” he answered after another moment, patting his fist with his palm as he stood there awkwardly. It was less awkward than before, though.

“Really? Okay,” she smiled widely and went to the fridge.

\--------------------

Bucky had been watching the Hacker for a couple of hours now. About three from what his body clock was telling him and in that time, the man had been pacing and stress drinking and eating, panicking on the inside and just highly focusing on the monitors, glancing at them every few seconds. It was like Bucky wasn’t even there.

He was standing on the threshold of the kitchen, leaning against the doorless frame while drinking another mug of coffee. He wouldn’t admit that he liked frank’s coffee over his own. There was a different tang in the way they made it.

In all the time that the other soldier was gone, he’d stood there watching Lieberman have his quiet freak out and it didn’t seem to do anything, the pacing didn’t calm him and it didn’t seem like he was doing it to keep busy either. He was just doing it automatically like it would make the time pass, much like a father in a waiting room, waiting for his wife to give birth. A panicking husband.

“God damn it!” his body tensed at Lieberman’s yell, seeing the object he had in hand end up slamming into a wall on the other side of the Hub. An outburst and then a chair was sent across the room. Just as that happened, Bucky saw something flicker out of the corner of his eyes and turned to look. The monitor.

_ “I’m gonna go open another bottle,” _ he heard a woman’s voice come from the speakers and the Hacker shot his gaze around, staring at it while frozen like he hadn’t expected it to come back on.  _ “Are you gonna make me drink alone?” _ he glanced back to the man, staring at him as he got closer to the screen and in the silence and distraction, Bucky shifted from the threshold, moving in sight of the Hacker as he got closer and leaned his hip against the circular desk side him, staying there so that he had visual of the screen.

_ “More of the uh-, pink stuff, huh?” _ Frank’s voice then came over and he watched as the bigger man rested his forearms on the table while the woman poured a glass of whatever was in the bottle. He saw the slight nod, maybe a  _ thank you _ from Frank as she handed it over.

_ “You know what I miss the most? David used to, uh-, grab my keys and just disappear for, like, twenty minutes. Every Sunday night. Wouldn’t say a word. And I knew that he was going to fill up my car tank,” _ Bucky watched as Lieberman got closer, a soft, sad smile tugging at his lips, hurt so clear on his face that it would be hard to miss.  _ “Because he knew how much I hated going to the gas station and he just took care of it,” _ he heard her chuckle softly over the speakers.  _ ”You never talk about your wife,” _ that caught his attention. His eyes turned back to the screen, boring into the man there. It didn’t really surprise him that Frank had been married, he’d just never really thought about it.

_ “Yeah, she’s a-... she was a special woman, okay? And she’s gone now,” _ as soon as he started talking, he’d picked up on the change from present to past tense and he couldn’t ignore the tug in his chest, the cold, deep twitch. Loss was pain, he knew that. Frank was in pain, or maybe he was past it, either way, he had more than just physical scars.  _ “That’s not gonna change,” _

_ “So what do we do? People like us. I mean-, we still have half of our lives to live, right? I think about that. I think about it a lot now. I mean, I see a couple walking down the street, holding hands and I think to myself, ‘ _ **_Will I ever have that again?’_ ** _ So does that mean that I’ve moved on? And if so, does that make me a bad person?” _ Bucky had continued to stare at the screen, mostly staring at Frank over listening to the woman. She wasn’t his focus, though it made him feel a little bad for her that she wasn’t aware of the fact that the Hacker was here. He’d easily guessed that these two were a couple and that she had no clue that he was there, watching.  _ “You’re a really good listener, Pete. You know that?” _ Pete? An alias then. She didn’t know who he really was.  _ “Mostly because you don’t say anything,” _ they both shared a laugh at that.

_ “Look, I- just… I think you’re too hard on yourself. You blame yourself and this isn’t your fault. You feel guilty and I don’t think that that helps you. You should allow yourself to feel what you feel,” _ Frank had a way with words. He knew what he was saying, and to a point, Bucky felt somewhat soothed by the words. They weren’t for him to hear, he knew that. It was none of his business.

_ “You wanna stay for some food? I got a refrigerator full of enchiladas that are delicious,” _ he focused back on the screen instead of his thoughts and watched as she fussed around, reaching out for the fridge behind her.

_ “Listen, I’d love to, but I-,” _ he saw Frank back up from the island in the middle of the kitchen, stepping to the side of it while putting the empty glass down. Bucky assumed that maybe he thought he’d been there too long. It’d been over three hours at this point.

_ “Oh, you got things to do,” _ she left her hand on the fridge door handle and he could see the slight relief in the Hacker when he thought that maybe Frank would leave the place and now that he knew that his wife was fine. At least he seemed calmer, regardless of the soft sadness from what was said.

_ “Yeah, I do,” _ Frank cleared his throat and stood there, seeming to be in thought for a few seconds and then-.  _ “You know, maybe you could make me uh-, a plate to go?” _ Bucky quirked a brow and watched as she seemed to get excited and then started babbling as she opened the fridge and rifled around in there, still talking.

Everything seemed to relax, or it had been relaxed and Buck was only then realizing it. He was never good at picking up on this kind of atmosphere, anymore anyway. He was still re-learning to pick up feelings, but everything seemed calmer than the previous few hours. There was relaxation in the air, less tense, and that was all from Lieberman.

_ “Uh-, I enjoyed… this,” _ Bucky returned his focus to the screen, having missed a moment between her reaching into the fridge to where she was now standing in front of Frank. He felt the tension return when he saw her lean in to hug him and then turn to kiss him. It didn’t entirely bother Bucky, it was the Hacker. He saw the way he froze in the corner of his vision. The way he just… stopped completely.

_ “Okay, hey,” _ again, he returned to the screen and watched as Frank separated them, clearing his throat. He had the sense to stop, which he admired. He wasn’t stupid, not that Bucky thought he was. He was anything but stupid.

_ “Whoa, whoa, whoa,” _ she backed off and he watched as Lieberman’s breathing patterns changed, hitching and stuttering slightly. He didn’t seem like he was about to cry. It just looked more like he was trying to catch his breath.  _ “Whoa, that was, that was weird,” _

_ “Look, I-,” _ he saw Frank pause on screen, getting her attention before continuing.  _ “I’m flattered, you know? I am, but I can’t-,” _ he was putting it as easy and as simple as he could, Bucky assumed. It seemed like the easiest way and he was going about it the right way. Straightforward, non-misleading.

_ “You- You should be. Second guy I’ve kissed in fifteen years,” _ Lieberman’s wife played it off, trying to regain her earlier pride or swav or whatever she’d lost during that little mistake. She was good, she regained it. Frank had even chuckled, though he assumed that it was forced like the earlier ones when the cams were back on.

_ “Oh boy,” _ his voice came over the speakers, replying to her comment. Honestly, Bucky wouldn’t have a clue of how to reply to that.

_ “I’m kidding, I mean-, wow,” _ he watched her as she covered her mouth with her hand for a moment, clearly embarrassed, maybe even ashamed by what just happened. It was natural to feel bad for what happened. No one should judge or blame her for it.

_ “Yeah, I uh-, I get it, but-... I just started… something with someone and uh-,” _ he sounded a little awkward explaining this excuse to her like it wasn’t a regular excuse he’d use for something. Maybe it was because he didn’t want to say it when he loved his wife? Bucky wasn’t sure and it was none of his business, had nothing to do with him. Frank or the topic of his wife.

_ “You’re dating? That’s good. What’s her name?” _ Bucky assumed that she used that as a chance to lessen the embarrassment by jumping into another subject, taking all focus off of the mistake, but that meant that Frank would probably have to elaborate on this. Bucky lifted his cool mug, the coffee having lost some heat and he started drinking.

_ “Uh-...  _ **_he_ ** _ actually. His nickname’s Bucky,” _ Bucky immediately started coughing the drink back up, almost choking on it.


	7. Chapter 7

On the way back, Frank had prepared himself for a mouthful and earful from Lieberman. He could already imagine the freaking out he must’ve done. Probably threw shit around and the Soldier probably stayed out of the way of that, maybe left the room. He didn’t want to consider it, but maybe he left the hideout too, but he doubted that the guy was that dumb to leave the place without knowing if there was Hydra around. He’d survey first and that would take time. The streets could be littered and he wouldn’t know.

Frank pulled to the garage door, waiting for the sensor to pick up and watched it open. He drove in, glancing into the rearview mirror to see it close and drove for a few seconds, leading down into the Hub of the building basement. He parked the truck up, huffing to himself before climbing out and heading up the stairs into the Hub.

He walked around, slowing down when he saw Lieberman face down on his keyboard, empty glass in hand and a bottle of booze beside him. Stepping further in he saw the frozen picture on the screen. Him and Sarah.

“Jesus Christ,” Frank muttered softly, exasperatedly. He just stared for a minute, huffing again. Lieberman pulled himself up into a sitting position, swaying on the chair a little, which told him he was drunk. That is if the more than half empty bottle didn’t make him think that first. “Guess you saw that, huh?” he asked rhetorically, shaking his head before looking around. He didn’t see Winter around anywhere.

“Why did you get her flowers?” Frank glanced back o the guy after taking in the question. He thought that was an easy enough guess as to why. Maybe he was too drunk to get it.

“‘Cause I needed an excuse to be there, right?” he answered obviously, still taking seconds between looking at Lieberman and checking around the Hub visually. The Soldier wasn’t standing still to the point that Frank wouldn’t see him. He wasn’t there, not the kitchen, bedroom or anywhere in this part of the basement.

“Peonies, huh?” a few seconds later and he looked to the desk, looking at the still image of himself and Sarah. He glanced at Lieberman, watching him recline into his seat, staring up at the ceiling.

“Yeah. Maria’s favourite, so…” he shrugged, feeling the awkwardness in the room and the tension in the Hacker’s drunk atmosphere, the self-pity and agitation was definitely there too.

“Sarah’s favourite too, I guess. Who knew?” he was playing it off like it didn’t hurt or like it wasn’t getting to him. Frank knew it was. He knew it would as soon as the kiss happened and he tried to stop it fast. Even used the Soldier as an excuse so she wouldn’t try again. She asked about the fact that he had a wife and was now with a guy and he’d just replied with _I’m not picky about gender_ and that was it.

He huffed again and reached into his pocket after remembering that he had those Enchiladas that Sarah gave him. He pulled them out and held them out to Lieberman, seeing that he was still staring at the ceiling feeling all sorry for himself.

“I brought you these. They’re, uh-,” not a second later, the Hacker snatched them from his hand. If the guy wasn't there to help him with all this shit going on, Frank would've beat him in the face for that. He decided pretty fast that he didn't like him drunk.

“I know what they are. Thanks, Frank,” and his attitude sucked. The agitation was coming out in that sentence. “I really love these things,” Frank watched him put them on the desk, filling up his glass again with whatever booze he had. “You know, I don’t uh… I don’t blame you for kissing her. She’s a beautiful woman,” the soldier huffed and pocketed both hands, shaking his head some. He should’ve stayed out for a little longer, maybe drove slower to have a few more minutes to himself because he came back to this shit. “And uh-... I don’t blame her, either,”

“That’s how we’re dealin’ with this, huh?” he muttered more to himself rhetorically, glancing around to just avoid looking at the idiot. He was a pain in his ass when he was drunk, he knew that now.

“Mmm. This is how I’m dealing with this,” he knocked back the drink and immediately started pouring the next, Frank huffing exasperatedly again. He took another look at him and just thought that maybe he should see if he could find the Soldier. He knew that that would be one helluva conversation too. Besides that, they were meant to be watching him and Lieberman was too drunk to do shit right now.

“Lieberman, where’s the Soldier?” he asked, barely any motivation in his tone as he turned back to the Hacker, glancing down at him with no motion or movement in the rest of his body. He couldn’t be bothered to deal with this, but he had to.

“Bucky?” the Hacker said into his glass, voice echoing shortly. “Oh yeah. He was watchin’ the feed too,” oh great.

“He heard?” again, he was being rhetorical, just confirming it and he turned a little to look into the room, thinking maybe he’d shown up while Frank was dealing with Lieberman. It wasn’t like Frank would be able to hear him if the Soldier didn’t want him to. The guy was made for stealth. He was the definition of the word.

“Yeah. He wigged out and walked off,” Frank snapped his eyes back to the drunk, boring into Lieberman with a solid stare of ‘shit’. Wigged out. He hoped that it didn’t mean he triggered something. Frank knew next to nothing about this stuff. He’d be sure to at least try and get more on it. There hadn’t been much elaboration between him and Winter about the triggers.

“He left the building?” his tone gave no room for long-winded answers. He stared directly through the Hacker and he saw the pause in him, Lieberman staring back at him with a drunk frown.

“Nah, nah, nah, nah. After he choked on his coffee he mumbled something about needing to work out,” Frank watched him slowly and sluggishly reach out to the keyboard, typing and pressing a few buttons and then he pointed to the screen on the other desk. “There,” the soldier looked over and saw the maze of catwalks on the floor above them. He was still in the basement, just up higher, doing rapid pushups with one arm, not the metal one.

Frank let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding and started leaving the Hub, striding fast while taking his extra layers off. He tossed the jacket aside and climbed the metal staircases to where that camera had been pointing.

He was swift and it didn’t take long for him to reach the catwalk that the Soldier was using as a hiding place. Frank slowed down, stopping at the top of the staircase and watched him, caution guarding him up fast. Winter was shirtless, Frank’s long sleeve a few feet ahead of where he was still working out. He didn’t look tired, wasn’t even panting and his push-up pace was faster than it would be for any normal military guy at this point. Frank would’ve actually gotten tired at this point, but obviously, this guy wasn’t a normal military soldier.

“Hey,” he tried, sounding a bit forced and maybe a little awkward. He wasn’t sure how he’d go about this, especially with this guy. Wasn’t sure how he’d react. Though Frank doubted that he was sore about him using him as an excuse. He didn’t think that _that_ would bother him. Everyone used that kind of excuse, so maybe it was something else. The guy was that complicated that it had to be something else.

The Soldier just carried on with his push-ups, knuckles digging into the metal caged flooring of the catwalk, the metal arm bent behind him, ankles crossed. He looked completely focused. He didn’t even look up from what he was doing and Frank was thinking that maybe he either didn’t hear him or he was ignoring him because he didn’t want to get into it. It couldn’t be that he just wasn’t affected by it, why would he choke on his coffee and leave otherwise?

Frank licked his lip and bit it before he started walking, getting closer and closer until he was standing in front of him, beside the shirt. He lowered to a crouch, knees bent and he was balanced perfectly on the balls of his feet, hands entangled between his knees.

“Listen, can you stop a sec?” he wanted to talk to him seriously and that meant focus. He watched as the Soldier stopped in his rigorous push-ups, arm bent at an angle that should be tiring, a position that you’d need the discipline to hold for how long the Soldier did as he uncrossed his ankles and set a knee down so that he could take the weight off and lean up, kneeling there in front of him. And he stared at him, directly in the eye, but Frank couldn’t pick up any emotion of expression. He was a brick wall.

“You’re not pissed that I used you as an excuse, right?” Frank stared back, softer so that he didn’t spook the guy. He didn’t think he would, it was just what his brain thought when he spoke. He didn’t want to set him off or trigger anything. He didn’t know, he wasn’t sure.

“No. I’m not,” he replied with no emotion, almost robotic and pretty flat toned. He wasn’t pissed, but he was uncomfortable enough that he was talking with no emotion like when he first brought him in.

“Then why’re you up here?” he shrugged in question, gesturing to the catwalk around them. Winter didn’t follow the gesture though. He sat there, staring directly into Frank, though it was more like he was looking right through him and he didn’t know how he felt about that.

“Wanted to blow off steam,” and the cause of that being something that was said in the feed, clearly the fact he said that Bucky was the guy he was dating. He used him as a scapegoat. But that wasn’t what freaked him, it was something else.

“Yeah. And why’s ‘at?” Frank tilted his head a little, staring at him questioningly. “You’re up here because of something I said in that feed. You were watchin’,” there was a long moment of silence, Winter looking like he was considering something and frankly thought that he may have seen something flicker across his face, some feeling maybe.

“I don’t like being caught off guard and that was…” he trailed off like the rest of the sentence was obvious. It was. Frank assumed that he wasn’t used to people doing or saying things that he didn’t expect or predict.

“Can’t exactly take it back at this point,” Frank shrugged, silence taking over again for a few seconds. He watched the Soldier stand, reaching out for the shirt and he slipped back into it, the shirt still being pretty baggy on him. Frank would need to get him some clothes that actually fit him if he was staying longer than they originally thought.

“Why’d you say my name? Why not some other guy?” Frank stood with him, watching as he tucked the waist into his jeans and folded the arms up to his elbows, the sleeve on the left arm folding higher until it passed the elbow. The sleeve was baggy enough that it slipped over the smooth metal, so Winter had to fold it extra so it wouldn’t.

“First good lookin’ guy that came to mind,” Frank shrugged. It wasn’t lying. He _was_ the first face that showed up when he came up with the excuse. Visually, he was a hot guy, highly attractive. That jawline had more structure than his whole life. His eyes were beautiful, a bright blue that anyone could compare to clear ocean water and his build was gorgeous. Strong and broad shoulders and chest, leading down to a mass of strong muscles littering his waist. Curved, strong hips. Great thighs and calves. He was better than any attractive guys he knew. Bill Russo was good looking, but Winter trumped him without thinking twice.

Frank was staring and he knew that, and when he directly looked at the Soldier’s face, he saw the suspicion and caution, a lot of surprise still in his face from what he already said. “What? I’m not oblivious,”

“You think I’m good lookin’...” Winter replied, making it sound like a deadpanned statement, that he didn’t believe it himself and it drew a bemused huff from his throat, a lazy smile drawing at the corner of his lips.

“Not used to bein’ hit on, _Buck?”_ he purposely used the name, aware that it’d be unexpected and he was right. The look that crossed his face. He was surprised again, didn’t expect it and he heard the exasperated huff leave the other man.

“Stop talkin’. You keep catching me off guard,” the Soldier than walked around him, hands being pocketed and Frank just smirked wider as he turned around, following him back to the Hub. He decided that maybe it wasn't all bad that he could mess with the Soldier if he reacted like that sometimes. He was... fun?


	8. Chapter 8

Bucky wasn’t jealous. He didn’t really care that Frank and Lieberman were pretty much drunk, the Hacker practically wasted and just chilling there, messing with a guitar. It’s not like he wanted to get drunk. He had too much to worry about to be able to get drunk. Maybe he was a little bitter that he could taste and feel the burn, but couldn’t feel the effects and because of that, he didn’t see the point in joining in or having a drink himself.

He was just a little bitter, not jealous that the two were just hanging out in the bedroom part of the basement, drinks in hand while the guitar was being strummed by the Hacker. Bucky just busied himself with gaining more knowledge on William Rawlins, reading as much as he could in the time he had while ignoring the sounds of the drinks being poured and the guys relaxed chatting as they enjoyed them.

A couple of minutes of silence fell over everyone and everything while the guitar was still being strummed, Bucky sitting there with his boot propped up on the desk, an ankle over the other while leaning back in the chair with crossed arms. He was still reading, but slow, relaxed. There was no tension and no one thought of him as much of a threat in the base at this point, so he had the luxury of finally being calm instead of on edge.

“You always have a guitar on deployment,” Frank spoke up and Bucky stopped reading for a moment, his eyes drawing from the screen to the man, his head hadn’t moved much, so he was looking at him through the corner of his eyes. “Sit around, you know… you got time to, uh… learn new songs, come up with new shit,” he was sitting there, noticeably relaxed and he seemed to lack the usual walls and guarded exterior. He had this… warm look about him, contentment in that moment maybe. Lieberman had paused in playing to listen.

“That’s how I met my wife,” he was opening up and Bucky flicked his gaze to his boots. He felt like he was invading Frank’s space, even though he was the one opening himself. “It was at a… a park on a sunny day, you know? I was there with my guitar. I’m sittin’ under a tree like a derelict. Tryin’ to learn this… this new song,” he heard the soft chuckle and Bucky felt like he shouldn’t listen, that this was a chat only meant for the two men that had been married. 

“I’m strugglin’, right? Strugglin’ away with it. I’m even singin’ out loud like an asshole, you know?” he could hear the warm smile through his words and it felt… almost contagious. Bucky felt it slip under his own skin. “And then I see her. She smiled at me. Yeah, I was done, man. She… she had me,” he heard him scoff softly, warmly laughing and still, Bucky felt like he shouldn’t be listening. “She says to me  _ Hey, buddy, you know uh, you know anything else? Because we’re sick of hearing you butcher this one,” _ the Soldier felt the tug on his lips at that. She sounded like she could handle Frank. Like a girl with that attitude suited him. “I go beet red and I look up, I see this gang of her friends and they’re all laughin’ their asses off,”

“So you beat the shit out of ‘em all,” Lieberman chirped up drunkenly, his tone resigned and tired, mostly due to the drinking because Frank seemed the same, he just hadn’t drunk as much.

“No, asshole, I didn’t,” the man scoffed again, taking another sip of what he had in his glass. “I told her that, uh, that I didn’t do requests, and if she wanted one, it was gonna cost her,” it didn’t sound cheesy when most pickup lines were. Barton was the record holder for cheesy pickup lines. That one sounded more flirtatious and inviting than anything.

“That’s a good line,” Lieberman spoke up again and Bucky heard some shifting. He glanced over to see him forcing himself up into a sitting position, elbows resting on his knees with his hands dangling between his legs. He reached for his cup and drank what was left of it and then held it out to Frank.

“Yeah, thanks. I was actually pretty proud of myself, given the circumstances,” he saw Frank shift, dragging the bottle of booze and refill the glasses. “Changed my whole life,” he said as he passed it back and he still seemed so warm and content as he put the bottle down and started sipping it again. “What about you?” he turned to the Hacker and Bucky’s gaze returned to his boots, subtly listening while sitting there with his legs propped up on the desk and his arms crossed over his chest.

“Junior year. I’m taking History of the French Novel. Sarah’s in my class. Now, you gotta remember that I’m a bit of a player at this point in my life,” he heard the scoff leave Frank when he heard that and it almost drew one to his own lips. “But for some reason, Sarah’s just aloof. For me, no way. Unapproachable,” Lieberman continued, Bucky catching the man shaking his head and hand in the corner of his eye. “One night, I find myself at this wild costume party. I’m a popsicle. There’s Sarah, and everybody’s wasted, she’s trashed. So, I work up the nerve and uh, I talk to her,”

“Get her while she’s drunk. That’s real classy,” Frank said with sarcasm lacing his sentence, teasing the Hacker and amusing himself. He was laughing slightly, chuckling against his hand while the other held his drink.

“No. Yeah-, yeah, but no,” Lieberman stuttered and took a sip of his drink. “Turns out she was just… she was just shy. So we’re talkin’, go back to her place. And we’re both waiting for the other one to make the move, you know? And hours go by, and we’re just talkin’ and eating toast, so much toast. And finally, like five in the morning, she kisses me,” he paused, resting a fist against his jaw. Bucky glanced down, thinking about it, imagining the feelings. “We’ve been together ever since,” that was something special, as special as Frank’s was/is to him.

“When you know, you know,” he heard the other Soldier mutter deeply, a chink being heard between glasses tapping together.

“When you know, you know,” Lieberman repeated and they took a long swig of their alcohol. There was a long moment of silence, the two men justing sitting there drinking and Bucky had been about to return to his reading when he heard a forced clearing of a throat directed his way.

“What about you?” Bucky flicked his gaze over to the Hacker, noticing how the two were looking at him, Frank seeing to only catch on that Bucky was being talked to by Lieberman. “From what I gather, you were a person before Hydra got their claws in you. You ever have a gal?” Frank actually seemed interested at that, the two expecting something of an answer.

Bucky bit the inside of his lip and glanced down at his chest where his arms were crossed. He didn’t have to answer, but Lieberman made him feel slightly included after asking him the question. He felt like they wanted to learn more and Bucky had already explained more to Frank about his memories than he had with anyone Steve had him talk to.

“I wasn’t...” he started with a deep, gritty tone after having been silent for so long, faltering slightly with his own words. “I wasn’t the kinda guy for long-lasting relationships. I was more of a  _ ‘one and done’ _ guy. A skirt chaser. That’s it,” he answered curtly and fast so that he didn’t have to elaborate on much. He at least told them something that only Steve was aware of. No one else apart from him knew how Bucky used to be before Hydra.

Again, there was a long moment of silence and he glanced up to see the two still staring at him, something like mild amusement ghosting Frank’s face and there was an actual smile on Lieberman’s something like pride, but if he was proud that Bucky opened up, he was an idiot. 

“Skirt chaser,” he huffed a laugh like he actually imagined it and was sceptical, or maybe he found it hard to believe but took his word for it. Bucky watched him for a moment, feeling like there was something on his face because Lieberman was staring, Frank too, but he was swapping between looking at him and taking sips from his drink. “Want some? It’ll drag you outta that shell,” the Hacker then offered him his glass and Bucky just stared flatly.

“I can’t get drunk,” his tone completely matched the stare and he huffed lightly, glancing away again. “Enhanced metabolism,” the Soldier muttered, biting the inside of his lip and he heard the low, dejected sound that left Lieberman.

“That sucks, big time,” he then heard Frank speak up and he returned his gaze to their direction, shrugging heavily. He’d had to live with it since he became a Soldier and even then, he doubted that drinking was even an option. The Winter Soldier didn’t drink, he was a puppet. If he was offered a drink, he needed permission and even then, it still wouldn’t hit him.

“When was the last time you got  _ drunk?” _ Lieberman asked with some incredulousness to his tone like he really didn’t believe it. Not surprising. The only other one that was known that couldn’t get drunk was Steve and they both already had their brooding session together and sulked over the fact that they couldn’t get drunk together again.

“... 1944,” he didn’t need to think about it. It was the same year he fell. The last drink they all had together was before their last mission together. The entire team, the Howling Commandos. They were all laughing, having a good time, unaware of the loss and pain that came after.

There was a noise of shock that left the Hacker and Bucky just stared at him, taking a quick glance to Frank and he could see the surprise on his face as well. They were both disbelief and he simply turned away again, his mind getting a few flickers of memories he already had of when he was  _ that _ Bucky, the Howling Commando, the soldier from World War two and the man that was barely even a man, but still a boy, regardless of his age. He was still young, still happy-go-lucky.

“What about the last time you got laid, huh? You miss sex?” Bucky snapped his head around in surprise at that, staring at him with a deep frown. That had really caught him off guard. There was a pause before Bucky snorted and glanced away, ignoring that entirely. “D’you miss sex?” the Soldier then heard him ask Frank instead and there was a scoff like he couldn’t believe he was being asked that.

“What d’you want me to say?” it sounded like there was forced amusement in his tone like he was putting on the attitude. Bucky could hear the tipsy in his voice. His voice was deeper, huskier.

“Because for me, I miss sex,” Lieberman spoke again and Bucky really wished that he’d stop. This was awkward, probably mostly for Bucky, but this was just getting tense for him. He didn’t want to talk about it or listen to someone talk about it. This was getting as awkward as sitting there listening to Barton talk about the various sex toys Deadpool collected.

“Yeah, that’s good to know, buddy,” Frank shrugged it off and Bucky didn’t look around to see what the shifting was. He didn’t want to make eye contact with the Hacker at that moment. He was afraid that it would just get worse.

“Wanna hear something funny?” Lieberman asked the whole room, his voice louder and Bucky huffed, hearing the other Soldier mimic him and then make an exasperated questioning sound. “If I miss sex, he definitely does-,” the Soldier turned and saw the Hacker pointing at him. Bucky glared.

“You keep me outta this,” he growled, staring directly at him with a dark stare. He saw Frank shift slightly in how he sat, a position that made it easy for him to move fast. This was the second time Bucky had snapped at either of them and the first time, Frank had backed off.

“No, no, no, no, see… c’mere,” Lieberman got up off of the bed and headed over to him, seemingly ignoring the stare and he dragged him out of his seat, making Bucky stand up by grabbing his flesh arm and physically pulling. The Soldier was trying hard not to actually force the Hacker away and that was only because he didn’t want to start something and end up hurting one of them.

“Lieberman, what’re you doin’,” Frank asked exasperatedly as the Hacker stepped around Bucky and pressed his hands to his back, making him walk forward and keep walking until they were stepping into the bedroom area. Again, he was only complying because he didn't want to start something.

“You sit here,” Lieberman had rounded him again and as pointing at Frank’s relaxed, muscular thighs and Bucky just stared at the other Soldier, noting the questioning frown he’d sent at the Hacker.

“I’m not sittin’ in his lap,” he deadpanned, turning slightly so that he could see both men and stare directly at the scrawnier one with a flat expression. He had no clue as to what he was trying to play at, and honestly, he wasn’t sure he really wanted to, seeing as the man wanted Bucky to sit in Frank’s lap. That was both uncomfortable and awkward.

“Yeah, you are. Sit,” he gestured to the man’s lap again and rested a hand on his shoulder, Bucky feeling a tad edgy at the contact. “You guys are pretend-datin’ anyway,” he added drunkenly and Bucky growled under his breath, debating on just leaving right then and there. 

“Just-... humour him,” he glanced down at Frank, noting the exasperation in his posture and face before he shifted, his boots dropping from the table they’d been propped up on to assumingly accommodate Bucky. He just stared down at him and huffed heavily, feeling the hand on him shove lightly as a sign to move. He turned his fed up expression on the Hacker before reluctantly stepping closer and sitting down sidelong in the other soldier’s lap. He felt the man’s hand reach up and hold his hip so that he didn’t move off and he lifted his flesh arm up, leaning his forearm on Frank’s shoulder. It wasn’t comfortable, but only because it felt so damn awkward.

“See, what I think-, is that you two should have sex together,” and the awkwardness just escalated and intensified. He could feel the tension in Frank’s muscles now and that was after what was said. “You guys haven’t had sex in ages and I can tell that you’re sexually frustrated-,” the Hacker gestured towards him and his frown turned into a glare.

“I’m not sexually frustrated,” he snapped back, maybe hostile enough that Frank decided to warn him. He felt the hand on his waist tighten in warning and he turned to stare at him, still scowling and then returned it to the Hacker.

“Hey, I don’t judge. When a guy needs sex, a guy needs sex-,” he wanted to hit him. He really wanted to just knock him out. This was too awkward and Bucky really wasn’t in his comfort zone.

“Can I kill him?” he muttered flatly, turning to Frank after asking and he just stared, seeing the exasperation show on the other soldier’s face. He was as done with Lieberman as Bucky was, maybe more so.

“No,” he asked back deadpanned, huffing to himself and he felt the hand lessen its grip.

“-You’re both attractive, and you even said that he’s hot,” Lieberman gestured to Frank with that sentence and that gave Bucky confirmation that the Hacker had been watching some feed that had Bucky in the cam, maybe watching him because he was still the Winter Soldier or that there was still some lack of trust there. Not surprising.

“I said that he’s a good lookin’ guy,” Frank corrected, not seeming bothered that Lieberman had watched that moment between them. Bucky was still uncomfortable with how unexpecting Frank was during it. The fact that he said that he was good lookin’ and then went and called him Buck.

“Same difference,” the Hacker shrugged it off with a wave and then he abruptly turned to Bucky. “D’you think he’s hot?” he gestured to Frank while still staring at Bucky and the Soldier huffed, returning his gaze to the other soldier.

“Can I kill him  _ now?” _ he asked with more grit to his tone. He was being a pain in his ass and Bucky wanted to be anywhere but there right now… he needed to train, blow off more steam.

“We need him,” that wasn’t a flat  _ no _ which was promising. Maybe Frank would let him knock the Hacker out. He was tempted to ask, just to shut him up. This was more embarrassing than it had to be.

“C’mon, answer. Is he hot?” no, kill. He wanted to kill him. 

“He’s a good lookin’ guy,” Bucky said lowly through gritted teeth and tight lips, a glare being sent up to Lieberman. He simply used Frank’s words from before. Though it wasn’t a lie, he’d admit, not out loud, that Frank was attractive in a dark, rugged way.

“See? You’re both attracted to each other! Go have sex! Hell, use my bed. I’ll be in the kitchen,” and the Hacker walked out of the room, heading through the Hub to the kitchen like he’d said and Bucky just sat there with Frank, both in utter and complete silence. Both shared a huff and the Soldier glanced at the other, staring flatly.

“You said  _ Humour him _ not  _ Listen to his bullshit,” _ he muttered with a deadpanned tone and Frank just shook his head and shrugged his shoulders like he had no words for what just happened.


	9. Chapter 9

Bucky had just finished pouring out the soup into three bowls when Frank came along and grabbed one and a spoon, tapping it against the bowl as he headed out of the kitchen and it gave off a horrible high pitched clinking sound that went straight to his bones. Like nails on a chalkboard or broken china being scraped together. It made him grimace and he turned to Lieberman who moaned and groaned, hands reaching up to cover his ears as he woke up with a hangover.

“Nnnno, don’t do that. Don’t do that. My head’s gonna explode,” he groaned groggily and Bucky just scoffed, Frank stopping the sound before stopping in front of him, bowl held out to the hacker.

“Eat that,” was all he said. He set the bowl down and headed out of the room, heading back towards the kitchen. Bucky glanced down to the bowls ahead of him and dropped a spoon in them, hashing out some bread beside it. Couldn’t have soup without bread and Bucky just wanted to look anywhere but directly at the two after yesterday.

“Can you two please forget everything I said last night,” Lieberman groaned to himself. It was awkward, more than a little since Bucky very clearly remembered the hacker directing him into the bedroom where he had him sit in Frank’s lap and that was awkward enough without the idiot talking about Bucky being sexually frustrated and he and Frank should have sex. The other Soldier was doing exactly what Bucky was doing, avoiding, ignoring. They didn’t touch the topic of last night and they’d both been awake for hours. “With the exception of Madani,”

“Hey,” Frank stopped walking when he entered the kitchen, turning to face the bedroom where Lieberman was. There was still no glass or real walls between them. “Forget Madani, okay? We’re not going to Madani, is that clear?” Bucky remembered that before the talk about the women and wives, Lieberman had drunkenly suggested that they go to Agent Madani, an FBI Agent that could help them. The hacker had been adamant that she could get them through all this, that if she knew, she could help them. Frank would be free and David could go back to his family. After Frank shut the conversation down, Lieberman went on to start playing the guitar.

“Eat that. It’ll help,” Frank requested deeply with no room for argument in his tone. Lieberman hadn’t said anything in reply for the moment. “It’s got fermented rice, full of probiotics,”

“Oh… thank you,” Lieberman finally spoke as he stood up, bowl in hand, spoon in the other and he played with it for a moment, Bucky watching from the corner of his eye while sitting down, dipping bread into the soup and eating wet chunks of it.

“Don’t thank me. Thank Bucky,” Frank said in reply and Bucky just continued to stay silent, just focused on listening to them and eating, starting to take sips of the soup from the bowl itself before dipping the spoon in and eating the veggie chunks.

“Thank Bucky?” there was some disbelief in his tone and he could immediately feel the sceptic eyes on him, watching him, lingering there for a while and he didn’t even bother looking up. “You can cook?” the scepticism just grew, building up in the room and it all came from the hacker.

“You said it yourself last night. I was a person before Hydra got their claws in me,” he looked up after speaking and saw the grimace on his face for how it was said. Bucky chose to repeat his words to show just how bad it was worded. It was insensitive, though he didn’t really care. He was just showing him how badly it was phrased. He clearly remembered.

There was a long moment of silence and scepticism, Lieberman clearing his throat from feeling awkward and Bucky returned to stare at his food, eating it at a decent pase.

“Didn’t poison it, right?” the hacker asked quietly after the moment of silence and he heard Frank’s huff of exasperation towards Lieberman’s regular assumptions that he wanted to kill him.

“If I wanted you dead,” he put his spoon down and reached under the table, pulling one of Frank’s smaller hunting knives from his thigh pocket of the cargo pants he borrowed, twirling the blade with ease and grace until they both saw it. “It wouldn’t be with poison,” he stared directly at Lieberman, the man’s eyes wide with shock and Frank was staring in return, straight at Bucky.

“Did you know he had that?!” Lieberman exclaimed loudly, pointing at him with the spoon. They were both still staring at him and Bucky just swapped the blade to his metal hand, his metal fingers gripping the metal of the knife and held it out to the other soldier, handle aimed towards him.

“No,” Frank replied lowly as he reached out and carefully took the blade from him, setting it on the far side of the bar table, completely guarded now that he knew Bucky had had a weapon on him the entire time. He’d had it pocketed or hidden on his person during the night he couldn’t sleep when Frank was keeping watch on him.

“Proving my point,” he returned to his food, taking a spoonful. “I could kill you if I wanted to,” Bucky stated with a light tone, shrugging like the sentence meant nothing because it didn’t. He didn’t want to kill them, not unless they forced him to and he hoped it wouldn’t come to that.

There was complete silence after that, tension filling the room from both Frank and Lieberman and he could feel their eyes on him. Bucky just simply continued eating and ignoring it like it wasn’t there. He took no mind and just carried on until his bowl was empty. He even grabbed some bread and ran it along the inside of the bowl, picking up as much of the soup that was left while he heard the slurping sound of Lieberman tasting the soup.

“Wow. This is amazing,” he muttered quietly before hesitantly taking the stool across from Frank, watching him carefully. Bucky nodded in acknowledgement and sat the bowl aside before getting up and heading around behind Frank, walking out of the room and into the bedroom where he sat down on the wheely chair, kicking his feet up, crossing both his ankles and arms to relax. He was tired.

He could still feel eyes on him, but he just shrugged it off and relaxed in the swivel chair, staring up at the ceiling as he closed his eyes. They were still closed when he heard the buzzing of a phone, the buzzing growing lighter when the phone was picked up and then louder when it was dropped again.

“Your wife,” Frank stated. So it was Frank’s phone. “Should I answer it or not?” he asked Lieberman for permission and it sounded like he huffed in jealousy that Sarah was there, calling Frank for whatever reason she had. He was still clearly sour about the fact that Frank and his wife kissed.

“It’s your girlfriend-, no wait, that’s Bucky,” Bucky growled tired and huffed.

“Call me that again, I’ll shove the bowl down your throat. Spoon and all,” he warned, frowning while still relaxed sitting in the chair facing upwards. His eyes were still closed. He hadn’t moved at all.

“Wow, creatively violent,” Lieberman replied flatly like the threat itself was just a threat, but there was a mild hint to his tone that seemed like he was a tad impressed by what was actually said.

Bucky heard a deep huff from Frank and then a few clicks, a beep being heard soon after.

 _“Hey, Pete. It’s Sarah. Listen… I’m really sorry about what happened before. You know, when I kissed you and I feel guilty. So, I was hoping that maybe you could come around with your uh… boyfriend? I’d really like to get to know who the lucky guy is. So, uh… swing by, bring him along. Leo’s interested in meeting him. Zach’s asked about him. So...yeah. Come by, I’ll have coffee waiting,”_ when she mentioned Zach, it sounded like she may have just added that to make it seem like Zach had actually asked when he probably hadn’t.

“Think it’s safe for him to step outside?” Lieberman asked after a while of silence like he was actually considering the possibility that Bucky could leave and not get attacked by Hydra or anyone else that might be after him.

“Haven’t seen any obvious sign of Hydra when _I’m_ out there,” Frank sounded like he was considering it too. Bucky was thinking about it now and although he felt somewhat safe in the basement hideout, it’d be nice to actually get some fresh air, even if it’s for a few minutes.

He heard the sound of a chair squeaking across the floor and then footsteps that got closer. A few seconds and he felt a hand patting him hard on the chest, forcing him to open his eyes and stare up at the bigger man standing over him. “Get ready, Winter,”

At that, Bucky huffed quietly and got up, stepping over to the corner where there sat an extra jacket from Frank and his glove. He went about grabbing another long sleeve that Frank had lying around for him and he slipped into the dark grey shirt, the sleeves and length just as long on him, hanging just over his knuckles and low over his hips. He slipped the glove on over the sleeve, hiding his arm and hand entirely and then tightened his boots up before slipping into the jacket. Frank had finished whatever he’d been doing about the same time.

“Gonna practise some kissing before you go?” Lieberman teased sarcastically and Bucky zipped his jacket up, pocketing his hands before glancing over his shoulder at the asshat.

“Why? You get off on seein’ two guys make out?” Bucky shot back swiftly, gained a snort from Frank as they left the bedroom area and headed down the path and then steps that led to the truck.

“Asshole,” Lieberman called out and Bucky scoffed.

“Takes one to know one, Lieberman,” he called back as he climbed into the truck, Frank now sitting in the driver's seat.

\----------

“You know he’s right,” Bucky sighed and stared out the window as they gradually parked up from across the house he’d seen on the monitors in the basement. “Can’t go in there actin’ like we usually do with each other,” Frank was talking about the kissing that Lieberman mentioned. Bucky knew that. He knew that they’d have to act like a couple, or at least something close to that. He had to act human too. Like a normal guy.

“I’m a good actor,” he shrugged before turning to face Frank, the car now all parked up with the engine turned off and the other soldier was staring at him. “Try not to be _too_ surprised,” he quirked his brows and climbed out of his side of the truck, closing the door behind him. He waited on Frank to come around the van before he started heading towards the house, the other soldier at his side and closer than before.

He let Frank get closer again as they walked up to the front door, catching his arm moving from the corner of his eye. There was no warning and the other man made it known as to what he was doing when he rested his forearm on his back, his hand just resting on his side furthest away from him. It was awkward, but they didn’t make it known. And then Frank reached out, rapping his knuckles on the door.

“Closer,” he heard Frank whisper and he moved a few inches in, his own arm moving to slip around his waist so that he had his side entirely aligned against Franks. And it was just as he saw the figure step into the blurred glass window on the door and then it opened.

“Hey,” the blonde woman, Sarah beamed a smile at both of them. It looked like she had redressed to something casual/formal for this. “You must be Bucky, right?” she’d turned to him and Bucky put on a smile, something soft and warm.

“That I am, and you must be Sarah,” his tone had changed to match the look and he made it seem like he was genuinely happy to be there. He saw the hand being held out and he did the same to shake her hand, sharing a smile.

“Uh... well. Come in,” she stepped aside and he felt Frank pull away to let him move first, to which he did. He stepped by her into the house and saw the living room, where the two kids sat apart together on the three-piece sofa. “This is Leo, and that’s Zach,” Sarah pointed out and only the girl waved, a smile on her face. The boy just sat there, arms crossed, pretending to look all cool.

“Hey, guys,” he smiled, standing beside the door as Frank stepped in the door was closed behind them. It was cleaner than what he’d seen on the monitors. three-piece couch, the single recliner and the two-piece couch were vacuumed by the looks of it.

“You can hang your coats there,” Sarah came in from behind and pointed towards the coat rack behind him. Both he and Frank started stripping from their jackets and hung them up.

Frank was the first to move, reaching over and just lazily resting his arm around his waist, directing him over to the two piece couch. The other soldier sat first and Bucky followed, both sitting close towards the centre of the sofa with Frank’s arm other the back, behind his head. Bucky had relaxed against him, forcing it and yeah, it was really damn awkward, but he was actually comfortable feeling him there, feeling his chest expand and fall with his breathing.

“How’d you guys meet?” the little girl, Leo, asked immediately, a smile on her face. At that moment, Bucky realized that he didn’t go over any kind of story with Frank and he clammed up, though the smile was still there. In reality, his mind supplied an ‘oh.. shit’.

“Friend of mine hosts a therapy gig for soldiers after they come home. Bucky helps out there,” Frank shrugged and he was really glad that he seemed to have some kind of story going, not so glad that he was never told. Or maybe he was making it up on the spot.

“Friend of a friend,” Bucky added in smoothly as affirmation and he saw Sarah smile. It was believable and very much possible. It’d happened all over the world. Friends meeting up with friends of their own friends and a lot of the time, that would be how a person would meet the one they’d be with. He’d say that this was no different, but it clearly was because it was a huge lie and a fake relationship to get Sarah off of Frank’s back.

“Are you a soldier?” Bucky turned to look at the boy, Zach. He was staring at him, eyeing him over and Bucky saw that he occasionally looked down to the arms that were crossed over his chest, his left hand to be specific. He was staring at the glove.

“I _was,”_ he emphasized, watching the expressions turn curious and interested. Zach seemed to really be interested in that confirmation.

“Is that what the glove’s for? Did you lose your hand?” he asked without any care to what he’d said and although it was an insensitive way of asking, it didn’t bother Bucky at all. Though it seemed to bother Frank, he felt his arm tense against the back of his neck where it was resting on the back of the couch.

“Zach,” his mother warned quietly, catching the kids attention for only a few seconds before he turned back to him expectantly. Clearly, his mothers' warning meant nothing to him and Bucky thought that that was rude. Back in his day, respect was always real and no one ignored their Ma’s.

“Pretty damn observant,” he replied curtly, a smile still on his lips and it was still forced to seem genuine. From the way Frank’s arm shifted, bending at the elbow so that the hand was now on his chest, it seemed like Frank thought that the question had gotten to him. It hadn’t. He was just a kid, they were curious. He knew that blaming the kid for being curious was like blaming a baby for gurgling or blaming a puppy for shitting in the living room. It was natural that the kid be curious. It didn’t bother him like he assumed Frank thought it did.

“Grenade was thrown our way. Tried to shield myself with my arm. Explosion blew my arm off,” he shrugged with relaxation, making it seem like none of it bothered him anymore. The story was a lie, which made it that much easier to stay calm.

He saw the kids face open up in both shock and awe as he stared at him and Bucky let out a deep, short huff of bemusement. He didn’t plan to go into detail or show them the arm. That’d seem morbid and it’d be risky showing them a highly advanced metal left arm that’s only known to the population as the Winter Soldier’s arm. No other prosthetic was as well made as his arm and none looked like it.

“Buck’s a regular war hero,” he heard Frank state beside him, his arm pulling him a tad closer until he could reach him and he had to force himself to not falter when he felt him place a peck against his cheekbone. His mind turned blank for a moment and he tried to hurriedly compose himself before they noticed.

“So, is Bucky your real name?” Sarah asked as a way to change the conversation and the question helped in recovery. He sent a smile at her and shook his head.

“No. Bucky’s a childhood nickname that stuck. My name’s James, but, uh… everyone just calls me Bucky,” he shrugged. He hadn’t actually heard his real name being called in years. The last time he’d heard it was when Zola said his full name during the torturous experiments, but he didn’t count that.

“I love your hair,” Bucky snapped his gaze to the young girl, Leo. She was smiling and what she said really took him aback. His smile may have turned a little real at registering what was said and he laughed softly.

“Thank you. I take pride in it. I’d say I’d give you some tips, but your hair looks a lot nicer than mine,” at that, she started laughing and seemed entirely happy that he responded the way he did. Truthfully, Bucky was never bothered by his hair, but he did manage it easily. He wasn’t concerned with what shampoo that was used, but he always bought the conditioner that matched that brand of shampoo so that he didn’t ruin his hair. And he easily managed to keep himself from getting split ends. He didn’t spend hours in the mirror, but he was good with taking care of his hair.

So maybe Bucky liked these kids. They were open and curious and were quite easy to deal with. Just give Zach a good story about something real and something action-y and talk about things that Leo liked talking about. It seemed to sit perfectly and he had them both distracted.


	10. Chapter 10

“Goddamn cowards,” Bucky glanced up from his crossed arms, sitting in the wheeled chair on the other side of the hub. Frank was angry, tensed, guarded. He was on high alert after a bomb exploded downtown, where he and David had been waiting, watching the Homeland Agent. “They think they’re gonna scare people into making them do what they want,” the man stepped over to the other news feed, watching the aftermath of the explosion from a different perspective. “They’re wrong. It just pisses people off. Brings them together, makes them stronger,” in Bucky’s experience, if they gathered together, they made an easier target. But that was the Winter Soldier’s thought process. “New York doesn’t forget. Whoever this is, they’re in for a world of shit,”

Bucky had seen a few of Frank’s angry phases since he’d been in the basement and he could honestly say that this was one of the worst ones. He’d seen him calm and neutral and then angry, but this was Frank pissed, almost on the verge of snarling and he could hear the deeper grit lacing his tone. He clearly thought the attacker was scum and needed to be put down. Bucky was currently the neutral spectator to it all.

“You know, if they bring Madani into work, we might get our chance,” Lieberman spoke up, seeming exasperated and tired. Bucky had heard them talk it out and Frank had reluctantly agree to going to Madani to clear everything up, a faster way to clear them and get back to what they were doing, in David’s case, his family.

“Bad idea,” Bucky commented, being the only one that seemed to not be affected by any of this or have anything to be concerned about. He had a clear mind and he knew that if they tried to see her now, it’d be hell.

“Why’s that?” Lieberman turned his chair to him, watching him and he almost seemed like he was condescending him with how he eyed him. He thought that Bucky shouldn’t have a say in any of this and the man didn’t have to even say it for Bucky to know that that was what he was thinking. It could be seen on his face.

“Whole city’s on alert. Last thing you wanna do is go after a Homeland Agent,” he replied flatly, staring with a deadpanned expression like it was the most obvious thing ever and it really should be. Who’d be stupid enough to head out after a Special Agent while the whole City was on high alert?

“So what? You want us to do nothing?” the hacker gestured between himself and Frank like they were the reason as to why they should. They were the reason, but they shouldn’t try anything yet, not if they wanted to be detained and you could bet your ass that Bucky was just watch because it was a _‘I told you so’_ situation.

“No, he’s right,” they both turned their gazes to Frank, who was still staring at the screens, having alternated back to the first. “It’s better than doing somethin’ stupid,” he’d known that Frank would agree with him on this matter. Planning, strategy, common sense of a situation. He knew that the City would have their eyes open until the bomber was caught or put down.

He watched as Frank shook his head and headed out of the room, Bucky’s eyes following him. The Soldier had been maybe a tad distracted since their visit to Sarah’s house and not because they’d had to sit so close that there was physical contact, no. He was distracted because Frank went far enough to kiss his cheek. It shouldn’t seem like such a big deal, but it was still on his mind, only becoming a constant thought after they left the Lieberman house.

Bucky huffed and ran a hand through his hair, drawing a curtain of his up and behind his ear before he stood and headed into the kitchen to distract himself by making copious amounts of coffee.

\----------

“We must not tolerate those who use violence to communicate. This man is not a patriot. He’s a coward, a terrorist,” Frank had been quiet up until then and now he seemed exasperated. A few hours and he went from angry to tired of bullshit. “Jesus Christ, Karen. Why you goin’ after him like this?” _Karen_ must’ve been the journalist that wrote it and by the way he said her name, she must’ve been close with Frank. He gradually began to understand why he was exasperated now. Someone he knew was being an idiot. Bucky knew that feeling.

“You sure she’s talking about the bomber? I mean-, everything you just said fits our roommate here,” Bucky snapped his gaze over to the hacker, glaring sharply at him.

“Eat a dick, Lieberman,” he barked curtly, hearing the deep chuckled as he worked on the wiring in one of his computers. He clearly hadn’t seen the death glare he was trying to kill him with.

“You first,” the hacker shot back simply, unphased by it and he seemed distracted for a second before continuing with the wires. “Anyway, we’re about to find out,” Bucky frowned in question.

“What’re you talkin’ about?” Frank asked what he’d thought and Bucky glanced up as he saw the man walk up the steps into the Hub area. He was frowning and barely spared him a glance as he stepped in.

“I’d say your girlfriends on the radio but he’s right there,” Bucky turned to glare at David again, huffing exasperatedly at him. He couldn’t kill the guy, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t hit him the once as a warning. “A side-chick maybe,” when Frank wasn’t there… Leiberman would be getting an everlasting bruise as a reminder.

“Turn that up,” Frank ordered as he entered the Hub and took the seat beside David, Bucky on the other end of the Hub with his boots up on the desk, ankles crossed and arms crossed over his chest.

 _“Up next, The Ricky Langtry Show,”_ a radio talk show. That brought back a little nostalgia. They used to have those in the past, though they didn’t sound as egotistical what with the show having what he assumed was the talk hosts name.

 _“Good Morning, New York. You’re listening to The Ricky Langtry Show and I am your host, Ricky Langtry-,”_ yeah, Bucky was right, it was the hosts name. _“-We have two guests on the show this morning. Senator Stan Ori, a vocal, long-standing proponent of tougher gun control laws. Is that fair to say, Senator?”_

 _“Ricky, thanks for having me. And yes, it certainly is,”_ he sounded rather pompous too.

_“And we have Karen Page, Bulletin Journalist, to whom the bomber wrote personally. Karen, you responded with a pretty, uh… pissy editorial this morning. You addressed this individual directly by calling him-, you called him a terrorist? D’you have any sympathy with his point of view?”_

_“No, none,”_ a females voice replied swiftly after the question. It was the woman that wrote the thing Frank had read earlier.

 _“The Irony of this bomber’s point of view is terrifying,”_ the Senator spoke, getting a word in and he assumed it was to only have the attention of the masses through the radio. He was probably as egotistical as the host himself, maybe more of a sleeze as well. He didn’t like these kinds of men with power, they abused it on the regular.

 _“You’re referring to the idea that he is using violence to defend the second amendment?”_ the host question. Bucky knew this Amendment. The Second Amendment to the United States Constitution protects the right of the people to keep and bear arms and was adopted on December 15, 1791, as part of the first ten amendments contained in the Bill of Rights. It was a right, anyone could own a gun for protection. Though the bomber was going about it all wrong. Using violence to defend a weapons right. The host had a point.

 _“Yes, I am. We have a killer committing murders in our midst to protest against efforts to reduce the murder rate in this country,”_ the Senator replied to his own gain and efforts, vain as he was. It wasn’t that simple. The bomber wasn’t targeting that specifically. It wasn’t all about the weapons protest.

 _“Well, that’s your takeaway, Senator. I mean, you are the gun control guy,”_ the host spoke up again, seeming to disagree slightly and that was only a tad interesting. He had the man on the show and didn’t entirely agree with him.

 _“Less guns, less death. That simply,”_ the Senator replied sharply and with a tone that said it should’ve been the most obvious thing when it really wasn’t. Bucky knew for a fact that the man was wrong. Taking away weapons wouldn’t reduce the death. They’d find other ways and he could see Hydra finding this as a gain, a place where they could move in and supply weapons under the Senator’s nose. It wouldn’t stop.

“No it’s not,” he spoke without really realizing he said it aloud until he felt eyes on him for a split second, both Frank’s and David’s. They lingered and then left slowly, easing Bucky a tad.

 _“This guy was using bombs, not guns. Could be some local hero with a handgun puts a cap in this guy’s ass. You could even argue that the right to put a cap in his ass is part of the foundation that America was built upon,”_ Bucky agreed with the host. He knew what he was talking about, was well educated.  Bucky was well aware of this having been a part of the War, one of the largest in history. They were drilled with this kind of information through Cadet and recruitment training. Questions that gave them the pass into a Unit and Bucky had flown through them successfully.

 _“Ricky, really? That was almost three hundred years ago,”_ the Senator scoffed like it wasn’t that big of a deal. The man clearly knew nothing and cared less about American history when he claimed that America can be better without guns. America was built on guns, Bucky knew that better than anyone.

“That’s the reason he won’t win this gun bullshit,” he muttered under his breath, eyes on him again. “It’s because it’s three hundred years old. No one wins against something that’s been around for that long,” he shrugged and huffed. Age was a battle already lost from the opponents perspective.

“I guess you’d know all about that, right?” Lieberman spoke up with a dry smirk aimed directly at him and Bucky stared flatly, unbothered by his damn quips and ways to amuse himself by using Bucky as entertainment.

“I’m a few months over a hundred years old and can still beat your ass through this floor,” he replied as flatly as he stared and watched the man as he scoffed and leaned back in his chair to continue listening to the radio.

 _“Miss Page, wouldn’t you agree that, in this day and age, no ordinary citizen needs to carry a gun?”_ was this man under a rock during the Chitauri invasion? And when Hydra started coming out of the woodwork? And even then, Hell’s Kitchen was a red zone for gangs, drug traders, Hydra, The Hand, a huge plethora of people that wouldn’t hesitate to attack anyone. Guns were a necessity in the part of New York.

“You’re barkin’ up the wrong tree there,” Frank finally spoke up, sounding pretty much exasperated and like he was tired of repeating himself over and over again. Or he was done with this Senators bullshit too.

 _“Have you ever been scared, Senator? Genuinely afraid for your life? In a situation where a gun and the willingness to use it might be the only difference between living or dying?”_ she had a good head on her shoulders, Bucky would give her that. She had sense and was aware of a limitation, a line of if she could pull the trigger if need be.

 _“Guns are a toxin in our society. In the wrong hands, they wreak terrible results. It’s barely a years since this City was terrorized by the Punisher,”_ Bucky had heard about that from Barton. The Archer was friends with the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen and word got to Clint that Daredevil had been having issues with a vigilante that killed. Nothing could’ve been done about it since it was around the time that wear broke out between Steve and Stark and the whole Accords thing blew up against the heroes.

“If word got out that the Punisher _AND_ the _Winter Soldier_ were here, that’d be a whole new kind of scary for this City,” If that got out, you’re guaranteed to be seeing Captain America hanging around pretty soon after. There was no way that the man wouldn’t be an hour later. He’d immediately be running around this part of the City in hopes of finding Bucky.

 _“You know that’s hardly the same thing. Frank Castle killed murderers and drug dealers,”_ Page defended righteously. She clearly cared for Frank in some way. He could feel the history there. Something that may have swayed her to Frank’s side of the line.

“Boy Scout,” Bucky mused instead, hearing the light scoff of humour leave the larger man. Glancing over from the corner of his eyes, Bucky could see the smallest of curves in the man’s lips after the comment.

 _“But where’s the line, Karen? Frank Castle decided he knew better than the law and was tried for killing thirty-seven people,”_ if that was within the span of a couple of weeks then that would be impressive. The man had a kill streak, one after the other and if it was the case, then Bucky would definitely be impressed. Yeah, he had over that, a kill-count that reached so far into the triple digits he’d lost count, but he’d been around for a hundred years, and that was including his years spent in the military before Hydra.

 _“Frank Castle’s not a terrorist,”_ Karen defended further, her tone showing that she was arguing wholeheartedly with the Senator’s opinion of the man. It made him feel like there was much more to the history than he’s originally thought.

“Thirty-seven?” Lieberman asked with a raised brow.

“That they know about,” Frank replied , the small curve in his lips still there.

 _“Castle was a hero to many who felt that he was doing what cops failed to do,”_ again, he felt like he agreed with what the host was saying, and not only because he somewhat respected Frank after all of this and hearing him out and sitting there talking with him. Buck wasn’t bias. He simply respected him to a point. _“Uh, hold it there, folks. We’ll be right back,”_ Bucky let a heavy breath pass his lips, dropping his head back against the top of the backrest so that he was now staring up at the ceiling. Frank quiet, hadn’t said anything else as the radio show took a break.

“Was about to ask if you two could have a competition on who has the most kills, but I’m pretty sure we all know,” the hacker spoke up as he returned to messing with his wires, disentangling them and rearranging them to fix something. Bucky wasn’t entirely sure what.

“Are we talkin’ kills as the Winter Soldier or the years I spent in the military during World War two?” the Soldier asked to fill the silence as they waited on the host of the radio channel to come back.

“Either way, pretty sure you’d win that,” Lieberman replied, setting something aside and then slipping the screwdriver between his teeth to hold it there.

“If you round them _all_ up, you’ll be in the triple digits,” Bucky added, still staring up at the ceiling. Thinking about it, he probably had more kills than anyone he was aware of, hero or otherwise.

“Yeah, there’s no competition,” Frank spoke up, a scoff-ish huff leaving his lips.


	11. Chapter 11

_“New York, we have a caller on the line that claims to be the bomber himself,”_ Ricky spoke up after a while and Bucky frowned, turning his eyes to the radio, now at attention. _“Can I get a name?”_ It was highly doubtful that he’d get one unless the guy was cocky and overconfident in that he wouldn’t get caught. Being smart would be best and that would start by keeping names out of the topic and not revealing yourself.

 _“No, my name’s not important. Only my actions,”_ a new voice came over, deeper, gritty… young. He didn’t have the crack in his voice that came with age. He was a young guy.

 _“You’re talking to New York. What d’you wanna say?”_ Ricky offered. He could tell that the man was attempting to keep him on, wanting to keep him talking and that was actually a good way to start. Clever. He could say anything and it’d take a moment to think if the bomber hadn’t thought about this yet.

 _“Why did you say those things about me, Karen?”_ nevermind. The bomber had a subject in mind and he was focused on her. He had plot, he was following things that affected him directly and clearly what Frank read this morning about what the woman had said about the bomber was what had him riled up and rearing to talk.

 _“Because I despise everything you’ve done,”_ ouch. Bucky would admit that she doesn’t hold back. It sort of reminded him of Carter, Steve’s gal from home. Strong, confident, not afraid to speak her mind.

“Ease up, Karen,” Frank’s deep voice drew his attention for a moment, something in his voice showing that he was becoming a little wary of what she was saying and to whom. He then returned it to the radio.

 _“This country is being cannibalized by people like Senator Ori. Shipping our jobs overseas, selling us out, then taking our guns so we can’t do anything about it,”_ Bucky frowned harder, his expression turning a tad dark. He didn’t kill anyone that deserved it. Even if he hadn’t seemed like he’d been listening and watching the tv, the news and radio, he actually had been and what he’d gathered was that no one in that building was a threat to this person's agenda. He’d attacked innocent people.

 _“You’re such a coward,”_ the journalist spoke up again, with the same tone as before. Loathing, despised, anger. _“Those people that you killed, they weren’t making policy. They were secretaries, janitors and beat-cops. Regular people. How does that help your cause?”_ she wasn’t holding back. She was speaking her mind and he’d agree with what was being said. She had a good head on her shoulders. _“Maybe the government did something awful to you. I don’t know your story. But awful things happen to people every day and they don’t murder people because of it,”_ at that moment, he paused, biting his tongue. He’d killed Hydra Agents all over America before disappearing with Steve. In his own time, before his friend found him, he took out the names on a list, names he’d remembered.

Bucky took a breath, not realizing that it’d be a little audible and he glanced up when he felt eyes on him, noticing Frank watching him. He had the same expression on his face that Bucky had and he understood why. They’d both killed and were trying to kill the ones that hurt them. In this case, Rawlins was a common kill.

 _“You’re just a pawn, like the rest of them,”_ the bomber spoke up after a really long pause, sounding darker, a dark motive behind what he’d said. He was angry, enraged maybe. _“And Senator Ori, what a joke. You don’t represent anyone but yourself. The war is just beginning, and you’re all on the wrong side of it,”_ threat. He was a threat, he could feel it, even through the call. There was darkness to his words. _“Sic semper tyrannis,”_ that was old Latin. Something he’d been programmed with along with a few dozen others.

“Thus always to tyrants,” Bucky translated flatly, his tone still and unwavering. That sounded right and from feeling a gaze on him, he looked up and over to both of the other men, one seeming distracted and the other seeming surprised, the latter being David. “What? I know thirty or more languages,” the hacker just hummed, as if it should’ve been expected.

“Wait. I’ve heard that before,” Frank suddenly spoke up, Bucky seeing the frown on his face. He watched him stare at the floor and then stand, a hand reaching up to run through his military cut hair.

“Yeah, in history class,” Lieberman replied disinterestedly as he returned to his techy stuff, Bucky being tempted to roll his eyes in exasperation. Even he knew at that point to not shrug off something that caught the other soldiers’ attention.

“No, no, no, no, I heard that,” he seemed fixed on trying to remember from the way he seemed like he was in deep thought. Bucky turned in his chair, eyes following him as he walked around the inner circle of the Hub. “I heard that somewhere before. Where the fuck was it?” he whispered to himself and the Soldier frowned in question.

“Did you hear it directly from the source?” Bucky asked as he casually stood up and crossed his arms. He was thinking that maybe there was a connection between where Frank heard it and just a second ago on the radio. He knew that the guy was young, maybe that would jog something.

“Yeah-, yeah, I did,” he mumbled, not turning or moving from where he was standing, half facing away from him. He was deep in thought, going through memories of where he may have heard it before. “Recently. I heard it somewhere the other day,”

“When the bomber was talkin’, I picked up on his voice. He’s young. Clearly Military from what he was sayin’ and what his cause is,” that seemed to hit something because Frank suddenly turned on him, staring him dead in the eye and there was something there, realization and registration.

“It’s-... Curtis’ group. That kid, he said that,” the other soldier pointed at the radio, still staring at him and he then stepped over fast, reaching out with his wide, strong hands and his movements were pronounced. Frank grabbed his shoulders like he was acknowledging him or thanking him by doing it. “He said Sic semper tyrannis. He said that,”

“You sure about that?” Lieberman was still completely disinterested with this. He barely glanced over all that much like it wasn’t his problem.

“Yeah, I am. How often d’you hear Latin?” Frank spoke up louder, still standing there with a hand on his shoulder, still in physical contact. The hacker then turned around and gestured at him pointedly, like he was the best example. “Buck was forced to learn that shit. Not like he wanted to,” the other soldier gestured to him as well and Bucky was exasperated, letting a huff leave him. He wasn’t a good example and he wasn’t happy with being gestured at like he wasn’t there, dammit. “Curtis talked to me about that kid. He said he’s always blaming others for his problems-... His name’s-... His name’s Lewis and he drives a cab,” he heavily clapped his hands when he got himself the answer. “Can you find him on there?”

“Lewis and he drives a cab? That’s real specific,” the man replied after a really long pause and Bucky just stared at him. He really wasn’t helping. He seemed to be fueling Frank’s agitation towards this. He wanted to find him and the Soldier could understand why.

“Come on! He’s a vet! I just-,” Bucky could feel the dark vibration coming off of him in waves. He was pissed. He watched as he swallowed and forced himself to calm, or at least tried to. His irritation was actually passing to him. He was feeling Empathy and it was making him angry, but more to the reason that Lieberman wasn’t even trying. “He’s army, aright? He’s white, 25 years old-. He’s definitely under 30 years old-. Could you just find him?!”

“That narrows it down, but listen, Frank. Are you sure that this is the same guy?-” it was getting worse, he could really feel the heat coming off of Frank in waves and he didn’t like it. It felt like he was in a room with a threat and he was trying to stay calm, forcing himself to stay focused.

“I’m goddamn sure!” the other soldier yelled and pointed towards the mass stack of monitors behind the hacker. “Just find him,” Bucky watched as the other soldier turned away and went to lean against the frame of the metal, squares that framed almost every room from floor to ceiling. He could see that there was more to this, more to why he was acting out and Bucky was trying his best to focus on that to distract him from the hostility. He was feeling it under his own skin, his instinct wanting him to react.

“What happens when I find him?” Lieberman asked simply as if it wasn’t the most obvious thing in the world. Bucky actually stared at him with wide eyes and a deep frown, staring at him incredulously. Either he was actually an idiot, or he was asking just to be sure.

“What d’you think happens?” Frank replied after a long pause, the man staring at the hacker with more of a flat stare and then turned away. “This sonofabitch’s goin’ after Karen,” he was even more agitated, he could see the soldier fidgeting with his hands, fingers moving and body not really being able to stay still at this point.

“What’s the deal with you two?” at this point, Bucky had had enough. His own body was on edge and his mind and instinct were telling him to react and he wouldn’t. There was no threat to him there. It was just Frank’s anger getting to him. He decided to remove himself and turned away, heading out of the Hub and then into the kitchen to distract himself with something. He felt only a little less hostility, he was basically still in the same room as them, but further away.

Bucky had managed to zone out as he went about making coffee, distracting himself with the order he put stuff into the mug and then filling the jar before switching it on and even then, he stared at it and watched it turn a dark brown from the coffee powder he’d set in the top part of the machine. He really had no idea how a coffee maker jar thing worked. It just did and he just stared.

“Sarah’s my wife. Sarah’s my family,” Bucky heard before a chair was suddenly kicked, a loud clatter echoing through the base and his body reacted, jumping back against the counter and his head snapped up to see that Frank had kicked it across the Hub.

“Listen to me. Listen,” the man then grabbed the chair he’d kicked and set it in front of David, moving to sit in it and he wasn’t as much hostile as he was frantic now. “I’m only gonna say this once. So is Karen. If something happened to her, I-,” Bucky stared in mild surprise as he stammered, unable to continue that sentence and then slammed his hand down on the table.

“Just-, Okay,” Lieberman held his hands up to show that he submitted, resigned to doing it now. That was a side to Frank that Bucky hadn’t actually expected. He wasn’t stupid enough to believe that the soldier only had that dark, powerful and intimidating exterior to himself. He was human and humans had so many different emotions and people like Frank and himself were limited after how much had happened, but it didn’t mean that they didn’t have those sides to them. He just hadn’t expected to see it, what with how strong and solid he came off every other time he was in the same room.

“Please,” the soldier said softly and it was odd. Bucky really felt like this wasn’t an emotion that Frank used. It was impulse then, a reaction that rarely made itself known. He watched as Lieberman moved forward, waiting on Frank to move away from the pc and he did. “Thank you,” he added even softer and Bucky took a breath before going ahead and grabbing two extra mugs.

After a few minutes, Bucky left the kitchen, two mugs in one hand and he placed the hackers beside him, immediately aware of the suspicious eyes that turned to him, to which he ignored. He carefully grabbed his own from his metal hand that had held both his and Franks and he held it out to him. The soldier was still concerned, hunched over on his chair and he glanced up, eyeing the mug before reaching out for it.

“Thanks,” the man held the cup, eyeing him a little. He saw a flicker of something in his face like he was analysing Bucky. It wouldn’t surprise him if Frank immediately picked up on the fact that Bucky didn’t like what just happened. He didn’t like it. He didn’t like that Frank had become that frantic and he swore he saw some vulnerability there for a moment. Not a lot, but it was there. It didn’t suit him and he hoped to not see it again. It made him feel… not pity, something else. It made him feel as if he should say or do something, like when he’d hugged Steve when he’d been like that before the Super Serum.

Bucky didn’t mean to feel a tad protective, and he didn’t need to with this man, so it made him question _Why._ Frank was anything but vulnerable. He wasn’t pre-serum Steve. He wasn’t even post-serum Steve. He was much more than that. He was broken and a broken man was the strongest in his opinion. You had to break a man to see how strong he really was and Frank was the epitome of strength. He and Steve were strong in two completely different ways.

The Soldier internally pushed the thoughts to the back of his mind and leaned his hips back against the other table behind him, beside the other soldier and he reached his mug to his mouth, holding back on a lot of thoughts that were going through his mind.


	12. Chapter 12

“Lewis Wilson,” Bucky perked up from where he was sat on the kitchen table, away from the other two. “Age 26, formerly 1st Infantry Division,” he wasn’t as anxious as before. He had control. And after being in the same space for about ten to fifteen minutes, he’d gotten over the initial hostility that wanted to get out.

Bucky dropped from the table and strode into the Hub area where Frank just entered as well. He looked like he was ready for a mission, the stare in his eyes telling him that this wasn’t a simple warning mission. He was out to kill. Bucky could understand that.

“Address is registered to Clay, Lewis’ father,” a kid. The guy was a kid… Bucky shook his head and clenched his jaw. A kid in a war. That was too familiar. He and Steve were basically the same in that regard back in their time. Bucky was twenty-eight when he was called in. Steve was younger than that when he wanted to get in on it. He was probably about twenty-six, maybe twenty-seven when he finally got in on the action and that was post-Serum.

“That’s him,” he zoned back in when Frank spoke up and Bucky watched as the guy headed into the bedroom area to grab a jacket. He paused, Buck, taking a moment to think. He was going out there to take out a threat, to make sure that they had a better chance with no interruptions. This was an interruption.

“Look… Why don’t we just call an anonymous tip line,” it still wouldn’t help. They do that and there was a chance that Wilson would just kill the ones that came for him and that would spread the cops too thin. There was no chance of going after Madani. “Frank, let’s call Curtis, aright? Curtis knows the guy. Let him deal with this,” he watched Frank slip on his jacket and Bucky huffed silently to himself, stepping out of the Hub and heading down to the van.

“Curtis’ll just try to fix him. We’re doin’ this my way,” he saw Frank head his way and stop when he saw Bucky there, slipping on one of Frank’s other hoodies. “The hell d’you think you’re doin’, Winter,” he knew what he was doing. He could see the moment Frank clicked on to what Bucky was up to.

“Comin’ with,” was his curt reply as he zipped up the hoodie and tucked his hair behind his ears, tying it up at the back in a messy tail. He’d realized that he looked more human and less Winter Soldier that way. More modern and less Soldier.

“No, you ain’t,” Frank said firmly as he started walking again, heading towards him and stopping a foot in front of him. Trying the intimidation tactic was pointless and Frank knew that. Bucky could see it in his face. 

“Like you can stop me,” he replied with a shrug and crossed his arms, his gloves already on. He wouldn’t risk showing his arm off, that was what would get his attention and he wasn’t that stupid. Bucky knew how to be stealthy.

“Buck,” Frank tried, his tone not as flat anymore. It’d turned slightly softer like he actually wanted him safe inside. Bucky stared at him, still not backing down.

“It’ll be faster if I go too,” he was trained and programmed to be a ghost since the late 40’s. He was a master marksman and sniper. Frank should know that if Bucky had the shot, he’d take it and all that was needed was some sight of him and a distraction that didn’t even need to take two seconds. “I’m a trained assassin. If you need a clear shot of this guy, I can get it for you,” he added, watching the stare Frank gave him turn resigned, a low sigh leaving his lips.

“You stay close, in my sight,” he pointed at him, a finger pressing against the centre of his chest. Bucky nodded in response. He’d have said  _ ‘Sir Yes, Sir’ _ if he knew it’d be amusing. This situation wasn’t really amusing.

“Great! First Karen, then killing this kid and now taking the Winter Soldier out for a walk? Any other bad ideas you got?” Bucky heard Lieberman call out incredulously in the background. He’d been listening to all of this and the Soldier shook his head. The Hacker was exasperated with them, he could feel it.

“Get in,” Frank huffed with a shake of his head before he reached out and climbed into the van. Bucky swiftly walked around to the other side and climbed in beside him, turning his gaze to him to see the serious stare he was getting. He was warning him without saying anything and Bucky just stared back. It was like a conversation was exchanged through the look and soon, Frank took a steady breath and turned the van over before directing it out of the building.

\----------

“The hell you doin’, Karen? Going after a guy like this,” Frank asked as soon as he got an answer. Bucky watched the building, keeping himself focus on that instead of the call, regardless that the other soldier put it on speaker so that they both could hear her. Frank hadn’t given him the  _ Shush _ gesture either. He didn’t need to. They were both smart enough to know that Bucky wouldn’t risk it.

_ “Because he chose me. It made me angry that he thinks I’d agree with his actions,” _

“Yeah, good for you. Now you got a target on your back, you happy?” the Soldier watched as a car drove passed, unawares and then continued staring at the house. He could tell that Frank didn’t want to call, didn’t want to have this chat. He was just getting as much info as he could in case something was missed. Though he could tell that he was checking in on her too. 

_ “What was I supposed to do? Nothing? That’s how people like this win, Fr-... why are you calling?” _ she was in the room with someone. She couldn’t say his name. Bucky could gather that much. Wit-pro maybe?

“Is the FBI there?” more than likely.  _ “Yes,” _ the woman confirmed and Bucky felt only a little relieved that she had some protection with her. It was better than being alone in a room where anyone could get to her. “Good. You just stay put ‘til you hear from me,”

_ “Could I get a little privacy?” _ for a moment, it sounded like she was talking to someone else, a long pause following with the sound of passing footfalls and then he heard her take a breath over the phone.  _ “Why am I hearing from you? Why d’you know about this?” _

“Yeah, I know that you need to stay put until this gets dealt with,” he wasn’t giving her anything. Frank was keeping her in the dark and Bucky could tell that that was better for any outcome. The less she knew, the better. She couldn’t be arrested when it came into suspicion of how he ended up dead. The FBI would definitely see it as weird.

_ “No, what does this have to do with you? D’you know who he is?” _ Buck took a short glance up and saw the thought on his face. He wouldn’t tell her, he knew that. It was maybe that he was thinking of an answer, a way to reply.  _ “Frank?” _ she was persistent.  _ “If you do, tell me. I can go to the FBI, and we can deal with this,” _

“Nah, it’s faster my way,” Bucky would agree with that completely if he could voice it. This way, Wilson wouldn’t be alive to do it again. He was a ticking time bomb. One wrong move and they could end up really damn hurt, or Bucky would anyway. He’d be the most likely to live if a bomb went off.

_ “Faster? They’re right here. Why don’t we do this the right way for once,” _

“Right way he doesn’t walk away from,” 

_ “That makes you no different than him. You’re both Winter Soldier 2.0 material,” _ Bucky frowned at that, his brow tightening together and he could feel the moment Frank’s eyes landed on him for a reaction after that was said.

“Hey, we’re plenty different and the Winter Soldier’s a different case completely,” he couldn’t ignore the conversation and he knew that right then, Frank was defending him because he actually got to know him, and got to know the why’s and how’s.

_ “That monster killed a lot of innocent people over the years, women and children included. You and this bomber. You’re two guys don’t like the way the world works, so you do whatever you want? Don’t do this and say that it’s for me,” _ Bucky tried to own it. He was composed and kept it that way, keeping him steady as he continued to stare at the building, making it seem like he was more focused on that task instead of listening to what was just said.

“Yeah, just stay put,” Frank didn’t sound all that happy when he closed the phone and cut off the conversation. They sat there silent for a long moment and Bucky actually felt a tad awkward, like the silence wasn’t meant to be there. He was sure that it was something to do with what Karen had said about him. He didn’t like attention on him and she’d done just that for a moment and it was towards Frank. They’d been compared. It was awkward and it really shouldn't be.

Bucky cleared his throat softly and continued watching the house. “She can’t see that you love her enough to kill for her,” he internally facepalmed for giving such a crappy statement. It was none of his business. The Soldier felt eyes on him for a moment and took a glance his way before returning them and sure enough, he was being stared at.

“I don’t love her. We’re just… We’re not a thing. I don’t like her that way,” Frank replied after a long moment of nothing, his eyes still fixed on Bucky. He could feel them scanning him, searching him, gauging him for a reaction.

“Coulda fooled me,” the Soldier commented, clearly lying and making it obvious. He huffed softly and rested back in his seat, arms crossing over his chest while he sat there, Frank now taking his turn to watch the building. 

“No, I couldn’t,” the other man scoffed and shook his head while surveying. Bucky was still eyeing it but made it seem as if he wasn’t as focused seeing as they were meant to be taking turns. Or that was Frank’s idea anyway. He was still a Soldier, it was a Military duty. Habit. Bucky picked up on a lot of Military traits with this man, which wasn’t at all surprising.

“Perks of being programmed the way I am. I’m a walking lie detector, among other things,” he shrugged loosely and heard the deep grunt of Frank clearing his throat, anxious? Bucky glanced his way and saw a split second of when the guy bit the inside of his lip. Anxious… or maybe regret?

“Sorry for that,” regret. He regretted the conversation he’d had with the journalist. Bucky lowered his gaze, feeling Frank’s turn on him again and he shook his head before returning them to the house, needing  _ something _ to look at.

“She’s not wrong,” he’d killed a lot more people than most, than any. Women and children included because they were witnesses.

“Yeah, she is,” she wasn’t wrong. He killed innocent people. They were a job, a parameter. He killed them because they maybe saw something. Even if not, Hydra wouldn’t risk it. Three men can keep a secret if two are dead. “You ain’t the monster. You didn’t do all that shit willingly,” it didn’t matter. 

“Doesn’t mean I didn’t do it,” Bucky’s voice deepened slightly, his expression turning a tad blank. Murder was murder and he pulled the trigger each time.

He reacted fast, as soon as he saw the hand reach out and grab at his hoodie, turning him until he was facing Frank and his hand was gripping his thick wrist tight. “You’re not a monster, Bucky,” the other soldier stared hard and confidently at him, Bucky staring back with some surprise painting his features for a second.

What was he supposed to reply to that? He couldn’t retaliate with it. Frank Castle didn’t consider him a monster. For a moment, Buck genuinely had no thoughts for a reply. A small sliver of hope had warmed his chest and he stared at the bigger man, soft and regrettably vulnerable for a few seconds.

He didn’t like the latter and so on instinct, he got out of Franks grip and sat back in his seat, avoiding Frank’s gaze as he continued to stare for a long moment after that and he said nothing.


	13. Chapter 13

Frank was striding fast down the street, the Soldier pretty close behind even after he’d told him to stay in the truck a bunch of times. The guy didn’t take no for an answer and he half regretted bringing him along for this. They were out in the open and even though he was covered up and no one could tell who he was, it didn’t ease him at all. He was more on edge and more aware of his surroundings, just thinking that Hydra would show up, jump out from behind a tree or some shit while he was taking down Lewis.

They just needed to get this done, fast and simple and then get out of there. Frank could check in on Curtis later if he wasn’t here.

He strode fast, keeping an ear out for his Super Soldier behind him. The building was across the way and a few houses ahead, so he turned to cross the road, looking back and forth for a car and he could hear Buck follow. He could almost feel that he was observing and scanning the surroundings. It was habit to himself so it would be more than that for this guy.

Once he was on the sidewalk, he subtly drew out his gun and cocked it, slowing down once they were at the house and he silently opened the gate into the front garden. He headed up to the door and stopped, looking over his shoulder at the Soldier. He was watching out behind them. He didn’t really feel like the guy would need a weapon if worse came to worse. Bucky was a walking weapon, even if he didn’t have that arm. A live weapon that could, admittedly, take Frank down if he really had to.

“Want a gun?” he asked quietly. He had an extra on him. Buck snapped his eyes to him, staring at him like he hadn’t expected him to talk, or hadn’t expected him to offer him a gun. Probably the latter. Frank unzipped the front of his jacket to halfway and reached inside. At this point, Lieberman would be calling him an idiot and questioning his sanity, but whatever. He trusted the Soldier enough to not kill him after all this bullshit. He hadn’t given him a reason to.

“You’re either brave or naive,” he heard Buck comment as he drew the gun from his jacket and held it out to the Soldier. He saw the way he eyed it over before reaching out and grabbing it, expertly checking it over with an easy hold and touch. He could almost see some tension leave his shoulder. Frank understood that. He could relate. He felt safer with a weapon in hand too.

“You sound a lil’ like Lieberman,” Frank taunted, half a smirk on his face. And he immediately saw the distaste on his face when he registered that he’d just compared him to the Hacker that he’d been having a pissing contest with.

“Don’t test me,” Buck shot back flatly, his voice a little deeper and gruffer. They didn’t seem to like each other all that much and he really wasn’t surprised.

Frank made a ‘no offence’ gesture with his shoulders and then got into a better stance. He got close to the door and kicked at the side closest to the lock, watching the frame snap and the door crack open fast, a loud clutter hitting the wall and floor inside and the door hitting the wall itself as he stepped in fast, gun aimed up. He slowed and listened out, silence meeting him and he took a second to take a glance at Buck, who was at the ready, seeming to be on high alert, eyes ahead and posture solid and trained.

He returned his eyes ahead and started inching along the wall, taking slow and silent steps down the hall. He barely took notice of Buck closing the door behind them, or what he could of it since it was broken. He was then at his side, against the other side of the hall, across from him. They both slowed once they were near the end and Frank took another glance at the Soldier who gave him a quick look and then started leaning out, gun raising, looking into the living room.

The moment he saw the way Buck’s eyes widened slightly, gun lowering and Frank turned slowly, peeking around the wall. Curtis! His own eyes widened and he moved a little faster, peeking out further and looking around the room to see if they were clear. Bucky was suddenly gone, really taking stock of the place and checking the nooks and crannies of the place.

Frank headed over slowly, still keeping an eye out. He looked his friend over, his blood growing cold when he took in the all the blood and how wrecked and hurt he looked. He couldn’t really tell if he was even breathing.

“Curt?”

\----------

Bucky lowered his gun as he stepped out of the kitchen, his movements fluid and calm now that he was aware of no other presence but their own. He saw Frank standing there, staring at the man in the chair, all wired up to a bomb and saw the soldiers’ gaze turn to him, Bucky giving him a swift nod to confirm that they were clear. Nothing else. Frank just returned to the other guy, his hand was hesitant as he reached out, checking for a pulse and he saw the relief the second he found one.

Bucky watched as he dropped to a kneel and then attempted to wake him. The Soldier immediately assumed that he knew this man from how gentle he was with him. There was a familiarity there. The relief being one of the tells. He didn’t think that Frank would be like that for someone he didn’t know. He’d be completely professional and treat it like a job. And then there was that conversation with the Hacker about a guy named Curtis being there. This was Curtis.

He zoned back in the moment he heard and saw the slight squirming and the man was awake, jerking in his chair and Frank was shushing him, trying to get his attention.

“Hey, hey. Curtis, look at me. It’s me,” something seemed to click because Curtis stared at Frank, even with the slight thrashing. “Hey. You do not move, okay? You stay still, you got that?” and just from that and Frank’s deeper and gradually quieting tone, the other man stopped, his eye wide, the other swollen shut and he was breathing heavily. “You just stay still,” Bucky watched as Frank gestured him to look up and then started to tug at the gag that was wrapped around his head, keeping his mouth shut. “Look at me. Hey. I got you,” the soldier comforted as the other let out a light whine. Maybe from pain or fear, he wasn’t sure.

“Sonofa-,” the guy hissed and winced when the gag was pulled off, his voice quiet and he was still breathing heavily. Bucky watched him closely and then he was being looked at, Curtis double taking and then scanning him over while the Soldier just stood there in front of the kitchen door frame.

“Hey, he’s fine. He’s safe. What happened here, Curt?” Frank drew the man’s attention back, Bucky still being looked at before he cautiously returned his gaze to the other. Buck felt more at ease when the attention was taken away from him.

“I tried to stop him,” Curtis started, voice cracked and deeper from the pain and heavy breathing. “Little bastard kicked my leg out from under me… Back in the day, you know I would’ve snapped him in two,” Bucky watched the anger in him, could see it close to the surface. A soldier. They knew each other through war-related situations, maybe. They were both vets. A room of three soldiers.

“I know you would, Curt. I know you would,” there was a moment where Frank seemed to pause to think and then patted the man’s shoulder before standing. “You be easy, okay? You just-...” the soldier then stood and headed towards Bucky’s direction, the Soldier stepping aside to let him passed.

“Where you goin’?” Curtis called and Bucky shifted until he was standing beside the table, arms crossing over his chest casually, out of habit. He could see into the kitchen where he saw Frank grab a glass from the doorless, overhead shelf, a rag being grabbed as well.

“I’m gonna clean you up a bit. See about getting you outta here,” he wasn’t stupid enough to think that Frank disregarded the bomb. It’d have to be disassembled before getting Curtis out of there.

“Hey, Frank. Just get outta here. Call-, Both a’you get outta here and call the cops, man,” Curtis groaned and Bucky turned to watch him. He didn’t look resigned to his fate, but he didn’t want frank caught, he could easily see that he’d rather his friend not get caught. He was covering for him. Bucky wasn’t aware of any information that lead him to believe that Frank knew how to stop a bomb. That would fall onto Bucky.

He heard Frank step out of the kitchen and felt him pass his side, heading over to the other man to dab a wet cloth against some smaller wounds. The Soldier was still watching him, noting that Curtis had tilted his head to look at him, watching him in return. There didn’t seem to be much suspicion, not that he could see anyway. He was just regarding him, gauging him. A trait that became reflex.

“Hey, drink this,” Bucky saw the eyes turn away, Frank helping Curtis take a swig of the water that he’d brought in a few seconds ago. He watched them interact, the other soldier, that he’d been housed by, placing the cup down and taking another few seconds to clean up some more of the blood before dropping the cloth as well.

“He beat me. Beat me with my own leg,” Curtis groaned, upset, shaken even. Bucky only then realized that the man only had one leg. It didn’t surprise him, but he was mildly curious as to why he hadn’t caught on before now.

“C’mon, Curt,” Frank comforted, a hand resting on the man’s shoulder and then he saw Castle’s gaze turn to the bomb, eyeing it over carefully before stepping aside and following the wires that linked up to another part of the device on the other side of the room. “You remember that uh… that EOD class we took? And what they said about Claymores?”

“Seven hundred steels balls comin’ at you 1,000 meters per second,” that was a way of thinking about it that made it seem that much more scarier, that was for sure. He’d never liked Claymores when he was on the frontlines, even if they were their own.

“A lot of goddamn balls, huh,” Frank added with a grimmer tone and Bucky decided that maybe now was the best time to speak up. Frank already confirmed his theory that he’d need the time that they didn’t have to be able to disarm it and Bucky could do it in half that.

“I can disarm it,” he mentioned flatly, straight-faced, no emotion to his tone. Bucky saw Frank snap around, staring at him with no flicker to his gaze. He was gauging him like Curtis had.

“You know how to shut these down?” Frank pointed at the part of the device closest to him, seeming to want to be clear. He seemed sceptical too, like he wanted to believe him, but wasn’t sure whether he should.

“Difficulty depends on the model, but yeah, I can,” he confirmed. Bucky saw the swallow, the slight tensing of his muscles and Frank was suddenly heading over, getting closer and closer until he was standing over him, towering him by a hefty few inches.

“Lemme make this clear-,”

“I’m not gonna get you guys killed,” Bucky cut him off fast. He didn’t need to hear it. He knew how much Curtis must mean to him and if Frank wanted him alive, Bucky would try his best to make that happen. “I’ve armed more of these than you’ve reloaded every rifle you’ve ever held. Disarming is the easy part,” he confessed, noticing how the soldier’s body loosened and how he stared at him with a strange look.

There was a long, stretched out moment before Frank decided to speak up. “Do it,” and Bucky nodded. He’d been about to turn and then realized something, returning his gaze to Frank.

“I have to take my glove off,” he muttered. He wouldn’t be able to do much when the fabric of the glove was between the wires, device parts and the grip in the plating of his fingers and thumbs.

“I trust him,” Frank mentioned and turned to Curtis, catching both their attention for a moment, his friends mostly. “Gotta keep him a secret, Curt. Like me,” Bucky turned to look at Curtis and saw the questioning confusion, brows creasing and then the Soldier proceeded to unzip his hoodie and toss it to the table, gloves following and then he rolled the longer sleeves up so that they weren’t in the way.

The moment he saw the soldier’s eye widen was when he knew that Curtis had an epiphany and clicked onto who he was. “Holy shit,” he heard the words leave the man in a whisper. “You’re the-,”

Three heads suddenly shot around, looking towards Curtis. A cellphone was ringing, but not the one that was strapped to his chest along with the bomb.


	14. Chapter 14

“What’s that?” Frank stared towards the two, eyeing Bucky who seemed at a loss too and then he turned to Curtis, who squirmed and looked down. He frowned and saw the man look back up to him.

“My cell phone. In my pocket,” his fellow Marine mentioned stuttery, still hurt and his voice deep and raspy from what happened. Frank frowned and cautiously strode closer, eyes glancing up to Buck. He seemed aware, on alert. It wasn’t just Frank that thought that this was weird then.

The soldier stopped short of Curtis and reached out, his hand slipping into his pocket to grab his phone, pulling back out to show an unknown ID. He frowned harder and then looked between Curt and Buck, noticing the way that the Soldier eyed the phone and then him, giving a short nod. Frank nodded in return and then answered, pressing the speaker image straight after so that they could all hear.

There was nothing but silence for a few seconds, a heavy breathing coming over every other second.

 _“You’re supposed to be dead,”_ the kids' voice, Lewis. He was there, he saw them. Frank clenched his jaw and glanced to Buck. If he saw Frank, then he could see the Soldier. He had a second to wonder if they’d blown the Soldiers cover.

“This Lewis?” he asked almost rhetorically. It was the kid. It was very clearly the kid. No doubt. The same voice that was on the radio talk show back at the hideout.

 _“And you’re Frank Castle. They said that you were killed,”_ the kid kept a steady tone. He didn’t sound surprised or shocked or anything. _“Who’s the other guy,”_ he then caught the slight guard in his words. He didn’t know Bucky, he was at a disadvantage with him because he didn’t expect him. Though he didn’t expect Frank either, he knew who Frank was. He saw some movement out of the corner of his eyes and noticed that Bucky must’ve thought the same about his cover because he was slipping his sleeve over the arm and his glove was being slipped back on, covering the metal entirely again.

“A friend, no one you should be worried about,” Frank lied. Bucky was the person that Lewis would seriously need to be worried about if he got on his bad side, which might actually be the case depending on how this played out. “And well, they say a lot of things, kid,” he shrugged off the whole dead part. A lot of people thought he’d been dead and a small hand of them were finding out that he was still alive.

 _“I guess they needed you gone. Too many people on your side. People like your friend. People like me. People who know that we have to-, to take matters into our own hands,”_ So his tone wasn’t actually that steady. Lewis actually sounded more unstable than he’d thought. The shake in his voice the longer he talked, the lack of a beat between each word like he was saying the sentence in one breath.

“Is that what you’re doin’ here, Lewis? You takin’ matters into your own hands?” Frank could keep him talking, could find out what he was doing and even maybe get Curtis out of here alive. Two birds, one stone.

 _“Someone had to. Same as you,”_ he was thinking about reconsidering his thought though. The kid was comparing them. They weren’t the same. This kid thought he was doing what Frank did, but no. Lewis didn’t know or understand his reasons. It wasn’t this simple.

“Kid, what does this have to do with Curtis?” Frank started, wanting to make Curt his priority, to get him out first. He could try to talk the kid out of hurting him more than he already did. That, he wouldn’t forgive. Frank nodded his head to Buck, catching his attention and nodded towards Curtis. The Soldier knew what he wanted and he nodded in acknowledgement, cautiously stepping closer to Curt and subtly slipping his glove off again, keeping his sleeve down.

 _“Curtis chose the wrong side,”_ Frank shook his head, keeping his eyes on Buck and Curt for a few seconds, watching as the Soldier carefully started taking apart the main panel of the Claymore, to maybe check which model it must’ve been.

“No. No, you’re wrong there. I promise you, he’s never been on the wrong side of anything in his life. You gotta trust me on that one,” Buck must’ve found the model number because he stopped moving, staring at the big box that the wires were attached to. He was thinking, he could see it in his face. “C’mon, Lewis. What’s the plan here, huh? How does this end? You gonna wait for the cops to show up? You gonna blow ‘em all to hell? You take on the establishment, kid, that will not end well. They will find you and they will kill you before you ever make a dent, I promise you,” he didn’t really hear the minor rise of franticness in his tone until he finished his sentence.

 _“I already made a dent,”_ That wasn’t a dent, what the kid did was only cause the deaths of innocents. That wasn’t a dent, that was chaos and murder. Terrorism. Frank took a silent breath, wanting to calm himself.

“Listen to me, you need to let Curtis go, aright? You let me get him outta here… and then you turn yourself in, aright? Just do it, yeah? Nobody else needs to get hurt,” he kept his tone from changing, not wanting to sound flustered or frantic like before. This kid wasn’t great for his blood pressure. He was sending it up and he could feel the mild heat in his chest. He was frustrating, a major pain in his ass and he wasn’t listening.

 _“Is that what you did, Frank? No, you fought your war, and now I’m fighting mine,”_ the heat shot up to his throat and frowned angrily, brow pointed down in the centre.

“You’re nothing like me… You’re nothing like me! People I went after, I stood in front of ‘em. I looked ‘em in the eye before I put ‘em down. Not you,” his voice turned deep, heavy and louder. “You’re a coward. You hide behind these goddamn bombs. You got a United States Marine here! A UNITED STATES MARINE!” he shouted deeply, his grip tight around the cell phone and he saw the sharp stare that Buck gave him, which Frank didn’t take look into. _A Warning._ “You’re nothin’ but shit on my shoe-,”

“Frank! Calm down,” he was cut off and shot a glare towards Winter as he stood and heavily strode over to him, grabbing his wrist and moving the phone away from him, staring him dead in the eye.

“Stay outta this, Buck,” he growled, pulling his wrist from the Soldiers grip with the Soldier still standing up close and in his personal space. He was glaring in return, both staring darkly at each other.

“Gettin’ pissed isn’t gonna help!” Buck shot back, leaning in closer and giving Frank his own intimidation exterior. But Frank didn’t budge. He stared back, a few inches taller and with how close they were, Frank was staring down at him. It didn’t make Buck any less dangerous though.

 _“Guess -Buck’s- the smart one,”_  as soon as he heard the sentence cut off, a beep following, his rage dropped and he just continued to glare at Bucky who was still glaring back.

“You tryin’ to get us killed?” Curtis spoke up from the chair and he clenched his jaw, grinding his teeth and he flickered his gaze over to his friend, staring at him and feeling the anger dim some more. Frank took a breath through his nose and tried to relax, forcing his shoulders to loosen and he turned back to Bucky, who was still standing there, his glare almost completely gone.

\----------

“It’s an older model, one of the more solid ones,” if Bucky were being honest, it looked similar to the ones that Dernier used to build up from the trashed pieces that the Bomb teams used to toss. The guy could make a bomb out of anything.

“That gonna be a problem?” Bucky glanced up towards Frank, who was leaning against the frame between the two rooms, arms crossed, ankles crossed. He looked a little shaken, frustrated and twitchy. He was fighting himself, restraining himself, he could see it in his muscles. He wanted to move.

“No. It’ll just take me a few minutes to figure out whether it’s on an open circuit or closed,” if it really was like one of his ones that the Commando made back then, it should actually make it easier. Bucky remembered watching most of the times he’d build one and he knew enough of the ins and out that he could make one himself, even without the Programs that Hydra put in his head.

“You know the difference?” Curtis asked deeply, tilting his head around to where he could see Bucky and he nodded, his metal fingers keeping one of the panels out of the way while he examined the wires attached inside. The kid knew how to make a bomb, that was definitely for sure. This could take out an entire block.

“Closed circuit, any wire that’s cut, that’s it. Open circuit, some explode, some don’t. Issue is, with the older models, they made it harder to figure out which is which,” Wilson knew what he was doing and he made it that much harder. From what he could tell, he did his research on the older models and modified it.

“So, either way, we’re screwed,” Curtis said with a heavily resigned ton like he’d given up right then and there. He didn’t want the Marine to give up, not this easily. Not from just this. Frank would do anything to save him and Bucky was the one with the knowledge of how to shut this down.

“Not him, doubt the bomb would hurt him,” the Soldier raised his gaze to Frank, staring at him flatly and catching the sliver of bemusement before it was gone. He was trying to lighten the mood, just a little.

“Still human, jackass. Just a lot more durable than you,” Bucky replied with a bemused huff before returning to the panel and wires, catching the way Curtis stared at him expectantly. “Modified Super-Serum,” he confessed. Any soldier would know what the Super-Serum does because of Captain America.

“You know, maybe what happens is supposed to happen, and if we get in the way, same old shit’s just gonna come back around,” that was an excuse. Curtis didn’t want to fight it anymore and he may have believed that this was a sign of that, just to make it easier on himself.

“Yeah, and maybe that kid hit you a little bit too hard in the head,” Frank shrugged it off, maybe thinking the same as Bucky in regards to what he’d said. He knew that he wouldn’t let his friend give up that easily. If it were Bucky and Steve, neither would he. And vice versa. Steve had already saved him on more than one occasion at this point. From Hydra, from Stark and from himself.

“There’s been plenty a’times I wished for it,” Curtis bit back, his tone serious towards his friend. It was dark, the atmosphere. He could feel the gloom on Curtis and it was too familiar to him.

“Ah, c’mon. That’s bullshit and you know it,” Bucky stayed quiet and simply focused on the bomb, his ears picking up what they were talking about while his eyes and hands were on the device.

“You think I woke up in the hospital with a missing leg, full of good thoughts,” a rhetorical question and he knew for a fact that he didn’t. Bucky knew all too well what it felt like to have a missing limb, even when the arm was there. It… it felt more real than his real arm, but he knew that it was fake, a weapon, not a limb.

Bucky broke from his thoughts when he saw Frank move, heading over to sit in the chair ahead of Curtis. “I’m proud of everything you’ve done since then. You didn’t feel sorry for yourself. You didn’t wallow. You got on with it, yeah?” he leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “You helped people, Curtis. That’s what you did,”

“You wanna know why? I’ll tell you why,” the man’s tone grew deeper, a little darker. “‘Cause every time I’m talkin’ to them, I’m talking to myself,” Bucky’s hands slowed, his attention turning to Curt because of the meaning behind those words. “You think I don’t wake up screamin’,” Bucky clenched his jaw and lowered his gaze, his mind feeling like it heated up to the words.. “-Thinkin’ on what I used to be? Wish for it?” his grip turned to fists. His nerves were shaking and he swallowed subtly. “I got my ass beat by a kid,”

“It’s not your fault,” Frank replied softly and a short flash of Steve and himself suddenly appeared and disappeared in his mind. The part of the video in the Smithsonian, where they were both laughing in the interview, and then on the Helicarrier when he almost killed him.

“You ever feel helpless? I have,” another flash, the ice, the abuse and punishment, the torture and pain. “And I swore I’d never feel it again-... but here I am,” Bucky clenched his teeth together, a soft burn in the corner of his eye. “I’d rather I had died in that last bomb than be sat here, strapped to this one,” the train, the fall. He didn’t die from the fall, but… to save himself from Zola… Hydra... he wished he-.

His mind zoned back in when he heard something break, glancing at the metal panel that he’d torn from the bomb, crushed in the grip of his metal hand. There was a long moment of silence, Bucky feeling the fast beats of his heart, faster than it should be.

“Buck?” he heard Frank’s voice and Bucky said nothing for a second, forcing his metal hand to let go of the metal plating and he saw the damage, the crunched up panel. He’d done it without realizing.

“Stop talkin’,” he warned softly, his gaze staying on the bomb and avoiding the other two. He could feel the short, wet lining on his cheek, thankfully the side of his face that Frank and Curtis couldn’t see from their angle.

He tried to calm down, picturing himself as a blank slate and then he was. He reached out and broke the rest of the panel off, aware that it wouldn’t blow up from taking it off. He tossed it aside and forced himself to continue working, his focus returning to the wires. It was definitely modified. Clean, but unfamiliar.

\----------

Frank stared, watching him closely and a little perplexed. He hadn’t expected that. He knew that it must’ve been because of what they were talking about, but he didn’t think that Buck would be affected by it to the extent that he zoned out and broke something. He looked shaken, evasive now that Frank and curt had seen him like that. It was out of character. He’d thought that he had better restraint and control, and it was making him question what part of the talk had him reacting like that, so they could avoid it later on.

Before he could think on it, the cell phone was ringing again, and he glanced down at it in his hands and saw the same Unknown ID flashing on the screen. He gnawed the inside of his gum for a moment, showing it to the two and took a moment to breathe before answering and switching it to speaker.

“Yeah,” he spoke, gaze flickering between the wall, the table, the floor, basically anything ahead of him, heavy breathing coming through the phone. The kid had moved position, he was out of breath.

 _“I called the cops,”_ figured that. He wouldn’t kill him. He’d try to contain the issue so he wouldn’t get in his way. It was a smart move, something that Frank would do if he didn’t become who he was.

“Okay. I figured you would,” he answered flatly, the same tone from the start. He didn’t feel any hostility in him, not after the talk with Curt and not after seeing how it affected Bucky. The three were shaken, rattled, he could feel it. There was no fight in them right now.

 _“I don’t wanna hurt you, Frank. Or the guy you showed up with,”_ Frank lifted his gaze to Bucky, eyeing him over from head to boot where he was sitting, still working on the bomb, focused on that, keeping busy while listening to the talk.

“And why’s that?” he dropped his gaze again, focusing on the call. There wasn’t a chance that Lewis would even be able to hurt the Soldier. Shoot him a few times and he’d still be walking towards you, walking it off to kill you.

 _“You’re not my enemy,”_ more heavy breathing. The kid wasn’t moving, he couldn’t hear the walking or continuous steps he took between breaths. He was still, maybe at another vantage point, looking in at them. He needed sight. _“We should be working together,”_ Frank shook his head lightly.

“If that’s what you want, kid. You got it, you just tell me which one of these wires to cut, yeah? Buck can get Curt outta here and I’ll be right along,” he replied simply, no holes in the sentence, straightforward and if it even worked, Frank could kill him and Bucky would’ve gotten Curt to a safe place.

 _“I don’t know if I can trust you,”_ he shook his head again, turning the phone over in his hand a couple of times.

“Trust… it’s got nothin’ to do with it, right? You can trust someone and they still let you down,” he took a breath and paused, looking towards his friend, eyeing him over and sighing softly. “Curtis ever you about how he lost his leg?” he spoke smoothly, still watching Curtis and receiving a questioning frown.

 _“No,”_ Lewis answered short, but the end was left open like he expected to be told more. Frank would give that to him, show him that Curtis was never on the wrong side. Frank leaned forward, phone still tight in hand with his elbows resting on his knees.

“There was a, uh… There was an IED. It went off in a market. It was a big one, it was bad, you know. Women, kids, there’s body parts everywhere. People were screaming, it was madness. People were tryin’ to make sense of it, all wild-eyed, but not-... not Curt,” Frank shook his head lightly, swallowing and feeling the tension in his shoulders when he really pictured it all. “He was cold as ice, you know. He’s right in the middle of it, he was doing his job. He was-,” he hesitated, remembering the kid, the body. “He was holdin’ this kid, puttin’ him back together. He was the best damn corpsman I ever saw. See… my job, I was supposed to secure a perimeter. That’s when I saw this woman walkin’ at us, she was 7, 8 months pregnant, she was walkin’ right at us,”

“It wasn’t even like that,” Curtis spoke up, shaking his head. It was. Frank remembered every second, remembered every moment and every bit of the shame and guilt. The blame was on him and he knew it.

“It was-,” he said softly, watching Curt, staring at him and feeling the burn and gloss cover his eyes. “It was,” he swallowed thickly, voice cracking. “I saw her… my job was to keep her away. The only problem, Lewis, is when I looked at her, I saw my wife back home who was pregnant with my kid. I should’ve put her down, but I froze. I couldn’t squeeze that trigger. And when she blew herself up, she killed that kid that Curtis was working on. She blew off Curtis’ leg,” his voice broke slightly and he sniffed, the guilt and shame coming back tenfold. “I dragged him outta there, he thanked me for saving his life, but the truth is… I ruined it,” he admitted softly, his tone breaking.

\----------

 _“Come to the back window, Frank,”_ Bucky frowned and lifted his gaze. He heard every bit of that and even the broken side of Frank. He didn’t like seeing it. The hurt, the internal pain. He saw Frank mess with the phone before he forced himself to stand. Bucky stood and moved his chair out of the way for him to get passed, his attention lingering for a long moment on where Frank’s free hand gripped his hip as he passed between him and the table, his heart having skipped just slightly at the contact.

“Lewis,” Frank greeted flatly when he was at the window and Bucky returned his eyes to the device, trying to work as fast as he could. He could hear the sounds in the distance, really really far out. Police sirens.

 _“Hear that?”_ the kid asked through the phone and he heard Frank grunt in return, listening out. He was tempted to get Frank to leave right now. Bucky could get Curtis out of here. He already summed the five wires down to three, between the yellow, blue and white.

“Yeah, I hear it,” Frank responded, flat and emotionless. He was ready for it, he could hear it in the man’s voice, he was ready and resigned to getting caught for Curtis, “But I’m gonna stay right here,” Bucky glanced over his shoulder for a moment, eyeing him with concern. He didn’t want Frank getting caught.

“Get outta here. Go!” Curtis pleaded towards his friend and then Bucky felt eyes on him. He looked to the other Marine and saw him staring him in the eye. “If you care about Frank, get him the hell outta here,”

A moment, a stretched out moment, it took Bucky to really come up with an answer. He stared in return, heart beating just a tad faster than usual and he clenched his jaw, looking away and back to the device, hands getting back to work.

“I care about him… that’s why I’m not gonna stop him,” he replied quietly, his voice like boots on gravel. He didn’t want him getting caught, but he wouldn’t stop him from doing what he felt like doing. And besides that, he and Frank didn’t want Curtis to die. Bucky didn’t want Frank to lose someone else that he called family.

“Frank, you sonofabitch, please. C’mon, I don’t give a damn about the past and you don’t owe me anythin’,” Curtis continued, his pleading getting louder.

“I’m not leaving,” Frank repeated and Bucky was down to two wires now, the blue and white. The pressure was on his shoulders, the sirens gradually getting closer. “Buck, get outta here, get back to the base,” Bucky frowned but didn’t look at him as he worked on the wires.

“No,” he retorted curtly, focused and determined on finding which wire it had to be. The others he could tell were detonators.

“If you get caught, you’re on immediate death-row. And that’s if Hydra doesn’t catch you first,” Bucky could tell then that Frank was looking at him, directing the sentence as him physically and Bucky shot a glare over his shoulder at him, shutting him up.

“I’m not leaving,” Bucky used his own words, repeating them back with confidence and stubbornness. He saw the way Frank stared back, a realization that he knew he wouldn’t get Bucky to budge and he just kept staring at him dead in the eye until he saw the slow nod. Bucky returned to the wires, frowning and focusing.

\----------

“Let me ask you a question, Lewis,” Frank returned his eyes to the window, the kid still standing there watching him and holding the cell to his ear. “Why’d you join up?” he asked simply.

 _“I wanted to serve my country,”_ Frank chuckled mirthly and shook his head at him. That was everyone’s answer, but it was deeper than that, it always was. That was just a bullshit line they fed to the ones they thought wouldn’t understand or they just didn’t want to admit they liked the violence, the freedom, the action.

“C’mon. That’s elementary school shit and you know it-. You joined up because you wanted to fight, right? You wanted a taste. To get some. It’s okay, me too. And now what you’re doing, is you’re using the flag, right? You use it to wipe off the shit that you’ve done since you’ve been home,” he pointed out darkly, voice so much deeper and almost in Punisher territory.

 _“Home? There is no home! Not as long as there’s hacks like Karen Page, think they can write or say whatever they want- or politicians like Ori sit and attack real patriots, Frank! No, they’re gonna learn that they’re not safe,”_ Terrorist. Frank scowled for a moment and then stared at him, devoid of emotion bar for the dark atmosphere that he could feel seeping through his skin. He’d kill him. He wanted to tear him apart.

“Now I’m gettin’ sick of your goddamn voice, you know that? Now I’m gonna walk away and have my friend cut one of those wires. -Now, what’re you gonna do? You gonna kill me, kid? You ready? You ready to kill me? You ready to kill Curtis and Bucky? Is that who you are?” his voice steadily rose, getting deeper, but getting louder. “Decision’s in your hands. YOU DECIDE HOW THIS GOES!” he shouted loud enough that he saw the kid jump from hearing it through the window and through the phone.

 _“Yeah- yeah, that’s right, I do, Frank,”_ Lewis jittered on the spot, twitchy and scared, unnerved but trying to hide it. He didn’t expect the hostility, the aggression.

“Wow, you’re a big man-. THEN GO AHEAD, BIG MAN! MAKE YOUR DECISION! Are you ready!? You wanna kill me!? Curtis!? Bucky!?”  the sirens were getting closer and he saw the kid sharply look back and forth, wiping his head with his sleeve and he booked it, shutting the call off and he was gone. Frank slammed his fist into the wall. “Little bastard!” he growled and turned, hitting his head on the wall.

“It’s white,” his attention shot over to Bucky, who was staring at the bomb and then looked up over to him, holding the white wire in hand, still tied up in the rest. Frank eyed up, mouth falling open slightly and he headed over, a few steps and was then right up close.

“You sure!?” his voice was still a growl, still in warning and angry, but he didn’t mean to direct it at the Soldier. The man held his cool though, seemed to know that he wasn’t pissed with him.

“Yeah,” Buck reached out and grabbed the cutter, letting the wire go. He held them out to Frank and he swallowed thickly, his heart getting fast when he grabbed them and turned to Curtis. He patted Buck’s shoulder and stepped around to the front of his friend, grabbing the chair and dropping to sit in it. His blood was pumping fast, his heart beating just as fast and it only sped up the closer he got to cutting it.

“Frank, no. What’re you doin’? Just go!” Curtis pleaded, squirming and trying to get him to go. “Frank just go! Go, man! Please!” he begged and Frank reached out, a hand reaching out and resting at the back of Curt’s neck and the cutters catching the white wire in between its sharp edges.

“Look at me, hey,” Frank breathed hard, voice catching in his throat. “It’s just you ‘n me, Curt,” his tone cracked and dropped his forehead to Curt’s heart beating so damn fast he was afraid it’d burst from his chest and he braced for it, instantly cutting the wire.

One second...

Two seconds...

Three seconds...

Frank cursed and started laughing and punching Curt’s chest. They fuckin’ lived! Frank was panting hard, his friend too and he shot his gaze up to Bucky who was standing there, is chest rising and falling fast too. He shot to his feet, an intense impulse taking over and he dropped the cutters, hands reaching out to grab Buck’s neck and jaw and he slammed their mouths together, teeth and heads clashing, the Soldier inhaling sharply just before.

He stayed there for a long moment, leaning into Bucky and feeling him lean back into the table, trapped between the table and Frank. He broke the kiss, both panting hard, the Soldier’s eyes wide, a bit shocked and he couldn’t blame him. He was a bit shaken that he just outright kissed him too.

No time to think, Frank heard the sirens right outside and he turned Buck around, the Soldier grabbing his gloves and hoodie, Frank grabbing his own jacket and paused in front of Curtis, who shook his head with a straining smirk.

“Get outta here!” he shot at him and Frank was out, right behind Bucky out the back/side door. He zipped his jacket up and saw the cops as the two headed to the steps, stopping Buck and watching him turn around and they both headed down the other way, towards the balcony.

“Stop right there!” as soon as the cop yelled, they were running at full pelt, Frank jumping over the fence and down onto the back of a truck. He moved out of the way and off of the truck just in time to see Buck do the same. “They’re heading east! Towards Pine street!”

\----------

Bucky pulled his hood up, catching Frank do the same as they headed across the road, more sirens going off and they were running again, Bucky following fast at the man's side and just behind as they bolted across the street and darted into an alley with short stairs. They were running fast, Bucky just barely getting out of the way of a woman with a big box. Frank didn’t miss her, he barreled into her, but only hit the box out of her hands, his balance gone for only a second before he had momentum again.

They slowed, coming to a fast walk when they were in another street, Bucky sticking close to Frank’s side, both panting still and they tried to seem casual, the Soldier huffing when a police cars siren blared and they were running again, darting across the street and into a fenced off walkway, both leaping over a fence, one after the other and he was keeping pace, making sure that Frank was in his sights.

They leaped another fence, higher than the last. Frank need to stick a foot in to climb and leap it while Bucky just flew over it, light on his feet and fast. He stopped, looking both ways along the empty alley, Frank doing the same and were both catching their breaths. He felt eyes on him and turned to the bigger man, noting how he nodded. Asking if he was okay without really verbalizing it, maybe. He nodded back and they were off again, walking towards one end of the ally and Bucky growled under his breath when he saw the cop car and the guy step out with a gun aimed at them.

“Freeze! NYPD! Don’t move, assholes!” the two slowed and he caught Frank’s movements, reaching out for a house brick just laying there. He frowned and eyed him as he stood straight, brick in hand.

“Run the other way, now!” and Frank was off running, Bucky not being given a chance and his eyes widened when he saw the rock being thrown at the cop, sliding over the hood of the car. He was expecting to be caught!?

Bucky stared, a frown deep on his face as he watched him beat the shit out of the other cop and then getting into the car, revving it and then reversing it. He was stealing the fucking cop car!? The Soldier growled and cursed under his breath, turning and bolting down the alley, hopping a fence away from the scene. Frank was thinking they’d follow him after hurting a cop. They’d be on him instead of Bucky.

Bucky was still moving minutes later, no sirens on him or nearby. He was walking fast towards a safe spot he knew about, a safe house that he’d made for himself straight after what happened in DC.

He headed there fast, eyes open, ears open, senses and body on full alert. He’d been sure to give a run-a’bout if someone was following him, but to his knowledge, he was in clear and was close to his old safe house. Bucky’s teeth and jaw were clenched, his mind going back and forth between the thought of Frank getting caught and Frank shaking the guys chasing him. He hoped he was out of trouble by now.

Buck saw his building, heading straight across the road and checking his tail before slipping in and heading up the stairs, the flights that led to the second to last floor. He roamed the hallway for a second before using his metal hand to break the lock, silent and stealthy as he stepped in, closing the door behind him. He scanned the room, looking and searching, but fortunately found no one.

He relaxed for a moment and headed over to the couch, dropping gracefully down into it and just sprawling out. He’d give it a few hours, wait until dark and he could leave and get back to Frank. Until then-...

Bucky reached forward and grabbed the remote, turning the tv on. He needed to pass the time and there was nothing else to do for the next few hours. And he didn’t want to sit in completely silenc-

_“-Castle was tried and convicted of the murders of 37 people, all of whom have ties to the city’s most notorious organized crime syndicates-,”_

_“-We have breaking news that Queens NYPD Police have encountered Frank Castle, AKA, the Punisher-,”_

_“-A man that the City thought was dead-,”_

_“-eturns from the dead. Who knows what he’s back for! More blood? Will he kill again!?-”_

Bucky’s eyes were wide, mouth dropping slightly and he was staring at the screen, all relaxation and loosened muscles becoming tight and tensed again. Everyone knew that he was alive now. He would be wanted again.

“Son of a bitch,” he muttered quietly.


	15. Chapter 15

He’d been walking for a while, continuously glancing over his shoulder and double-checking his surroundings in case he was being followed.Bucky had given the run-about a few times on the way back to the base if that was the case. He was heavily cautious and wanted to make sure that he wasn’t a risk, wouldn’t take pursuers back to the hideout of Micro, The Punisher  _ and _ the Winter Soldier. That would be the biggest shit-show to hit New York. Micro, not so much. But the Punisher and the Winter Soldier was another deal entirely. They were both considered the world's most dangerous men.

Bucky saw the base up ahead and slowed down, taking in everything around him before ducking the thick fence and heading towards the building. He was still listening out and looking around even just as he entered the place, being completely silent, as usual. He didn’t want to spook anyone and making too much noise would make Frank alert and on edge, looking out for the enemy, especially now, since his face was everywhere and everybody knew he was actually still alive. 

He silently walked through a few hallways and headed down the stairs that led to the catwalks. He wasn’t being at all loud or making any kind of sound and he hoped that that was what Frank was expecting if he thought that Bucky would return to the base. He wasn’t one for making himself known and he thought that the Marine would know that already. He strode across the catwalk, hands in his hoodie and his senses still alerted. Bucky quietly and slowly descended the metal stairs, eyes glancing and scanning back and forth. There was constant chatter, the news. He could hear the same people talking about the Punisher and it alerted him to the fact that someone was here. Lieberman probably. Frank more than likely hid somewhere, like  _ he _ did.

He didn’t bother with making any kind of sound to let them know that he was there. He just simply strode down the rest of the stairs and walked into the Hub, glancing to his side to look into the computer area and pausing. Frank was sat there in one of the chairs, eyes turned towards him, arms crossed. Bucky glanced towards the screens Frank had previously been staring at, the news. He knew, obviously. It was everywhere after what happened yesterday. 

“You had a safe house?” Bucky glanced back towards him from the screen and nodded slowly. It was the most obvious option. Frank knew that Bucky wouldn’t stay outside, not in this part of City where Hydra had caught him the first time. It was too risky and Bucky would’ve returned to the basement if he didn’t have a safe place.

“Not that far from here. Not far from where we split yesterday,” he informed before turning around and heading into the bedroom area, still straight ahead of Frank where he could see him. He pulled his gloves off, the jacket being fluidly taken off and half folded before being dropped to his cot. His sleeves were folded up to his elbows and he left the bedroom, heading into where Frank was sat in the Hub.

“They think you’re an accomplice,” Frank mentioned as he stepped into the room and grabbed a chair, spinning it and sitting backwards on it, forearms crossing over the backrest.

“What?” he frowned. He hadn’t seen anything about it last night, nor through the few hours after that. He’d been awake for a while listening to the tv and there’d been no news on there being a second person. Not unless it became known after Bucky decided to take a few hours to try and sleep and rest up.

“You’re partially in the footage. Back’s to the camera and the cops that I knocked out gave statements,” he shook his head and rested his chin against his crossed forearms, eyes on the other soldier. “They all know that I’m working with someone. They don’t know it’s  _ you _ though,”  _ you, _ as in the Winter Soldier. They think he’s just some civilian on Frank’s side then.

“Like Lieberman said, The  _ Winter Soldier _ and the  _ Punisher _ working together. The entire City would have a mental break down,” no lie. He could imagine the chaos that would come from this part of the City if someone found out that the Winter Soldier and the Punisher were both alive and working together. Frank alone already broke Hell’s Kitchen now that they knew he was alive. Could you imagine the disarray and distraction if they knew that he was there and working with him?

“That, and you’d be in a helluva lot more trouble if Hydra’s still here,” Bucky creased his brow at the choice of wording. It sounded like he cared, worried about him getting caught.

“They are,” Bucky stated and saw Frank turn his eyes back to him fast like this was news to him. “It’s protocol.  _ No new leads, sit tight until you get some,” _ they hadn’t heard anything on Hydra since he was drugged and tied to a chair. Everything tended to quickly fall silent, which was Hydras thing. So they were planning and sitting tight, waiting for Intel.

“So they’re still hangin’ around Town?” Frank asked with a flat tone, seeming to understand after taking it in. It made sense that they’d sit tight until new leads came up and there’s nothing about Bucky being in another part of the City or having moved to another City. So it stood to reason that he was still in that part of the City.

“Yeah,” it just meant that Bucky had to stay put too. He’d have to stick close to Frank and hell, maybe the other soldier would be fine with him tagging along again. He actually enjoyed the fresh air and the time out of the Basement, even if it involved him having to disable a damn bomb. The bomb, and that stupid kid and Frank… “About... what I said when Curtis asked if I cared about you?” he started uncertainly and glanced up at Frank.

“Hey, don’t worry about it. I get it, it was a way to shut him up-,” Bucky shook his head and stared at Frank, who was being evasive. He didn’t want to talk about it.

“No... I  _ do _ care,” Bucky continued, a loose frown on his face while he continued to watch the other man. He saw him turn to look at Bucky through the corner of his eye. “More than I should,” why was he even telling him… Bucky would leave once this was over, once Rawlins was taken down. Maybe then he’d call Steve in too. The Soldier huffed slightly and registered the eyes on him, stronger, staring, boring into him. “What?”

“Nothin’, just-... woulda thought that a guy from the 20s’ would like his women. You even said as much before about skirt-chasin’,” well yeah, that was who Bucky was back then. It wasn’t like he was oblivious though. Back in the Past, he liked his women, but he wasn’t ignorant to a good lookin’ guy too. 

“We had queers back then too. And I’m neither that nor straight anymore. I couldn’t care less,” he shrugged and lowered his head, resting his chin on his crossed forearms. He heard a scoff and let his gaze flicker up to Frank, who had a just noticeable smirk on his lips.

“A’right,” the other man shrugged too.

\--------------------

Russo had been silent this whole time, sitting there on the plush couch while Rawlins vented and complained. Frankie making the news tipped him, made him angry that now a lot more people knew that he was alive. It made matters harder for them. They couldn’t kill him quietly, not now. And especially not since it was rumoured that he was working with someone that could keep up with him. 

Whoever was there, was in the building with him, with Curtis, and then got out and ran with him. Frank separated them, that’s what Russo assumed, to avoid getting the other one caught. Bill figured that Frankie knew about the cam in the cop car. It was basic knowledge. So… was Frank protecting the other guy?

“You shoulda taken him out right there and then at the pier!” the man yelled as he threw his hand across his desk, papers and pencils scattering over one side of the table. Russo sat there, as calm as ever. He’d seen him angry before, so it didn’t phase him in the slightest.

“I had to  _ win him over _ at the Pier,” he reminded from his position, elbow resting against the arm of the chair with his hand fisted and propped against his jaw. He was bored while calm. He’d much rather be at Anvil. He still had documents to read over for the Recruits. Russo sighed, hearing a knock at the door that was completely ignored.

“You could’ve easily pulled your wrist-knife out and cut his throat!” Rawlins continued, directly yelling at him from the other side of his desk, more papers being spilt from the surface. He wasn’t getting it. He was overlooking detail in his anger.

“I’m not suicidal. He’d have been able to take me out faster than I could get the knife in position,” he didn’t understand just how fast Frankie was. He’d be able to see the attack before Bill even initiated it. Russo would be taken out faster than he could take Frank out.

“You wore a gun!” there was another knock at the door. Billy shook his head. He was overlooking so much now that he was seeing red. He was losing his sense of the situation under this pressure.

“He’d see it coming,” Russo reminded and watched as the man slammed his hands down on the desk as another knock at the door sounded and Bill turned his head to the door just as Rawlins acknowledged the woman standing there, a file in hand.

“What!?” the man yelled towards the door, her body flinching and her file almost falling from her where it was locked between her arm and chest. She was scared seeing her boss enraged.

“I’m- sorry, sir. But there are men here that really need to talk to you. They said it’s urgent,” she informed shakily, her face showing her uncertainty and fear of the man. Russo let a silent breath leave him and turned his gaze to the other man who just seemed angrier for being interrupted.

“Send them away!” he shot towards her and turned half away, side-on to her. No doubt, if he had a gun in hand, Rawlins would probably shoot her. He seemed that angry that she was standing there.

“They said to tell you  _ It’s Hydra. _ They said that you’d understand?” she sounded even more scared and Russo frowned. Hydra? As in  _ Hydra _ Hydra? He thought that they fell during the accident in Washing DC years ago. It wouldn’t surprise him that there were a few bases here and there that housed other Hydra Agents, but he didn’t think that they’d be operating like they had before DC.

“Show them in,” Rawlins sighed after a long moment, breath coming out in a fast puff. He seemed to calm himself down fast, hands running over his scalp and then straightening out his suit.

“Hydra?” Billy asked simply as he returned to his position, elbow against the arm of the chair, hand fisted and resting against his jaw. He was interested in what this must be about. What would Hydra want with Rawlins?

“Long story,” he replied curtly and rounded the desk, someone jogging from the side door to Russo’s left to clean up the mess that Rawlins left cluttered over the ground. He heard the footsteps and Billy moved to stand, his actions fluid and trained. He pocketed his hands and turned to face three men that stepped in. Two were dressed in something that seemed casual, but he could see where their weapons were hidden and that they had a layer of armour under the casual clothes. And then the third one, standing ahead of the group in a fine looking suit. He was familiar. He knew that face. He was one of the men that were behind Rawlins when he served with Frank, during Cerberus.

“William, pleasure to see you again,” the man spoke up with a feigned forced smile, stepping forward to shake his hand and then extended it to Russo too. “And you, Mr Russo,” He simply nodded in return and curtly shook his hand. He was getting more questions rather than answers. Was this man Hydra? And he’d been there during Cerberus. 

Wait, this was one of the men that funded Cerberus. Did Hydra fund it? Did Hydra fund the operation? That would mean that Rawlins had been working with them, Hydra. He’s Hydra?

“What can I do for you, Mr Malik?” Grant Malik. He was the backup Boss to Rawlins at the time. His security detail that didn’t do his job when Frank threw a punch and blinded him. They claimed he was security detail, but Russo knew that there was something about him, something shady. Frank knew too.

“Please, call me Grant,” his fake smile grew and his hands were pocketed, the men behind him eyeing the room and Rawlins and Billy a few times, checking them out. “And… I’m in need of some assistance,” Russo turned his gaze to the man and kept them on him, steady.

\----------

“What kind of assistance?” Rawlins asked, trying to seem as calm as he could. He was still internally seething. Angry about Castle, Angry about Russo, and now angry about Malik. The man was more of a snake than even  _ he _ was. But unlike the other two, he couldn’t do anything about this man. He was far more dangerous. He had sway with a lot more figureheads and had the power to take away everything he’d built.

“The  _ Search and Recover _ kind,” Grant explained calmly and stepped around William, the two goons staying put as the boss rounded his desk and picked up one of his desk trinkets. “We’ve recently lost sight and location of our Asset in this part of the City. Your jurisdiction,” he then set it down and his gaze lifted to Rawlins, the smile gone and a serious frown now creased across his face.

“What Asset?” they had many Assets, a few of which, he’d seen before. A few of them unnerved him. It’s like Hydra enjoyed making the most disturbing living weapons. They even tried it with willing subjects and even they had to be put on ice because they were too dangerous. They turned on their creators.

_ “The _ Asset,” Rawlins felt his blood turn cold and his heart freeze. At just those two words and the meaning behind them, he froze on the spot and stared blankly at the man ahead of him.

“You’ve lost the  _ Winter Soldier _ in my part of the City?” his tone shook. The Winter Soldier… Rawlins had never been more afraid than when he locked eyes with that monster. He’d been a statue, so unnervingly still. But his eyes. He looked into them and all he saw was the cold embrace of death, his own death, everyone else's death and he was terrified. He felt frozen, so cold.

“We had him, but then my men were killed by another player and now there’s no telling where the Asset is. We’re stuck here until we get new leads,” Grant explained as rounded the desk again and slowed as he got closer to Rawlins, who was frowning heavily.

“And there’s none?” he asked almost incredulously. It’s the Winter Soldier! Hydra should have him as a damn priority! They should be on every one of the Assets Safe Houses and on each of his doorsteps! They programmed the thing! They should know what he’s thinking! Where he’d go!

“That’s why we’re here. You have the means of finding the Soldier and I request your aid. Don’t forget, Rawlins… It was Hydra that gave you what you have. You owe us,” being reminded of that, his hackles rose and he ground his teeth, jaw clenching, fists tightening. He just reminded and his anger was returning.

\----------

“Yes, Sir,” Russo was stood there in shock, his mouth being forced closed because it’d been agape a few seconds ago.  _ The Winter Soldier _ was in New York? Was in their part of the City? This threw their plan straight out of the window if he was involved. He’d never met the Soldier. He’d seen an image on the news, but that was it. The rest was all ghost stories and rumours and a little information from the Leak in DC. Shield had barely anything on the Winter Soldier.

“Good boy. We’ll set up shop down the hall,” Malik grinned and turned his men around, heading towards the door with his goons following, the door being closed behind them and that left him and Rawlins in silence. Russo turned his head to watch the other man, eyeing him. He looked exhausted. 

A long moment later and Rawlins headed around his desk his silence, resting his hands on the table. Another long moment and a yell rang out through the room, everything that had once been picked up and organised and placed on his desk, it was all over the floor again. And once that was done, he dropped into his plush seat and just relaxed, looking completely dishevelled and like he could croak right there. He looked like he believed that the world was out to get him.

“The Winter Soldier?” he asked after a moment of silence, his tone slightly sassy-esque. He could hardly believe this. Russo really had a hard time believing that the Soldier was real, let alone here.

“The stories about the Asset don’t do him justice,” Rawlins replied groggily, eyes opening with a frown on his face. He’d met the Soldier then, clearly. 

“And he’s now in the same part of the City where the  _ Punisher _ is,” that was even harder to imagine. The Winter Soldier AND The Punisher in the same place. It wasn’t something he really wanted to picture. Frank was enough for him, but the Winter Soldier too?

“If the Asset has his mind back, he’ll know about me. He’s seen my face and knows my name. If Castle finds him and tells him anything… both Castle and the Soldier are coming for me,” Rawlins reluctantly leaned forward and rest his elbows against the table, hands running over his scalp and Russo was actually looking at this man like he was different. He’d never seen this side of him. “Nothing can stop the Asset. He was trained to be an unstoppable monster,” and that just sent a shiver up Billy's spine.

“Then we find him before Frankie does,” he replied curtly. He still had a hard time believing that he was even real. He just had to get to Frank, catch him out. It shouldn't be too hard. Frank wasn’t stupid, definitely not, but Billy was conniving and a little smarter on the trickery side of things.

“If he hasn’t already,” Rawlins stood up and started straightening himself out. The Rawlins he knew was coming back, composing himself. “I’ll look into surveillance. You try to figure out if Castle hasn’t got him already,”

“After Senator Ori’s Interview. Frank’s not gonna show his face for a few days after this,” Russo gestured to the wrecked newspaper with the Punishers picture from the Cop Car.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sure that there are a few mistakes in here. I 'did' proofread it, but I still may have missed some.  
> It's over 7'400 words long, so there's bound to be a few.

“Russo,” Billy answered professionally as he left Ori’s Suite and passed by one of his Anvil guards, stopping a few feet away, not too far from the door though.

_ “Can you talk?” _ Frank… The Soldier swallowed lightly and side-eyed the guard. Why would Frank be calling him now? He thought that the other man would wait, lay low until he was sure that he was off of the radar. That was the smart move.

“Uh… Yeah. Yeah, hang on,” Russo replied slowly and stepped away, heading over to the emptier area between the Guard at the door and the other guards down near the elevators before looking down the crossroad of hallways he’d stopped near. He then took out his earpiece and leaned back against the wall as Frank’s voice picked up again.

_ “Heard you got a new client, huh? Business must be good,” _ he sounded fine. Though he knew of no reason why he wouldn’t be.

“If I believed everything I read, that’s all down to you,” Russo glanced up and down the hallways, making sure that there were no prying ears. He would be in real trouble if stray ears heard any of this call.

_ “Wouldn’t put too much faith in that,” _ and that confirmed the suspicion. Frank had a part in it, but he was the defence. It was that Bomber then that set this domino fall. He scared Ori into getting Guards. Frank was just getting in the way to get rid of the kid.

“Hope you’re calling because you’re reconsidering my offer. Still stands,” it was a chance, a low chance that Frank would take it, but still a chance. “There’s a lot of heat on you, brother. We gotta get you outta this City. 12 hours, I can have you anywhere you wanna be,” he tried, glancing down the hallways again to keep up his surveillance.

_ “Lewis Wilson, he’s comin’ after Ori. He’s got no intentions of letting him make that speech,” _ didn’t take the bait. It was worth the shot. Russo sighed slightly.

“Okay. And how would you know about something like that?” he played along, wanting to hear what else he’d tell him. He  _ was _ meant to be protecting the Senator, the kid was a risk to this job if he did show up.

_ “Told me as much,” _ Great… this would be Lewis’ chance, the suite, the timing. If he was that smart, he’d get the chance to jump and take out Ori.

“What is it with you and this kid?” he asked abruptly. Russo was hiding his mild agitation well. This kid would be getting between him and his work and Frank was the one giving him the intel on it.

_ “We have unfinished business,” _ as vague as ever, Frank. Russo sighed lightly again and looked down the hallways again. Frank and Unfinished business was a formula for bloodshed. People ended up dead and he didn’t want to be on that list.

“Yeah, well, we know how you feel about that,” he swallowed lightly and pocketed his free hand, messing with the lining and phone inside.

_ “Kid’s got delusions of grandeur. You gotta get the senator outta there, but tell no one. Make sure you keep the appearance that he’s still in that Hotel Suite. You set the trap, we’ll spring it,” _ Russo’s ears picked up on that, eyes focusing, brain cogs turning. What he’d just said-.

_ “We?” _ he asked softly and suddenly, something clicked in his mind, his expression showing exasperation. “...You’re here. Frank, this is my work. I can’t just-,” this was a chance. Rawlins wanted to know if Frank had the Soldier with him, he said  _ We _ and Billy knew that Frank wouldn’t work with just anyone, and definitely not as the Punisher. “Listen, tell me where you are. Meet me, we can do this together,” he suggested calmly, his composure winning out on his urgency.

_ “Look, you just keep your team outta my way,” _

\--------------------

Frank set the phone down and tipped his cap further over his face. He turned away from the wall and headed over to where Buck was leaning against the wall, looking more casual than even Frank.

“It’s just us. Let’s get to work,” he said as he stepped over to him and passed by, hearing footsteps following as they made their way towards the room where they got the disguise. They walked passed a few people and then snuck back into the janitors closet, Buck already getting to work on stripping out of the uniform and uncovering the gear he wore under it, Frank following suit.

They were both wearing something similar, black long sleeves, black jeans, a bullet vest and big combat boots and everything besides Bucky’s boots were all Frank's clothes. So Buck had to fold over the bottoms of the jeans to fit and the right sleeve was folded up to his elbow. The left was still covered up and he brought an additional accessory. The lower half of a balaclava mask, it looked a little similar to what was reported in the Winter Soldier appearance.

Once they were both done, Frank stepped over to the door and peeked out through the square, glass window, waiting for the hallway to be empty before stepping out, Buck following and they both headed out and towards the stairwell.

\----------

Bucky followed Frank close, right at his side as they jogged up the flights of stairs. He’d noticed that the other soldier hadn’t even stopped to say no when he climbed into the passenger seat of the van. He’d just stared at him, sighed and they were leaving the Basement.

He actually started pulling away from Frank, taking more steps at a time without getting tired at all. He knew that Frank was only moving as slow as he was because he was keeping pace, but Bucky didn’t need to. He didn’t really have a limit on energy, or at least, he hadn’t found a limit yet.

“Want me to go ahead?” he asked with a well-hidden smirk, looking over his shoulder as he reached the end of one flight and then started the next.

“Cool it, Speedy. I want you close,” Frank spoke up and started catching up, using the railing to pick up some speed. Bucky actually slowed again but stayed ahead. Unlike Bucky, Frank needed to save up what energy, stamina and everything for when that kid showed up.

“And I thought  _ I _ was the old man,” he jabbed, his smirk showing and he received a deadpanned stare as Frank got closer again.

Not a moment later, they both felt and heard the sudden explosion, the floor shaking beneath their boots and the alarms started blaring on an upper floor. The two shared a fast look and then bolted up the stairs, Bucky pulling ahead fast and taking a quarter of a flight of stairs at a time. There was no say on if he should go ahead at this point because he was.

As he reached the top flight he looked towards the dead guard and then heard another bang, but it wasn’t as explosive. He peeked out and saw the mist seeping through a door. A smoke bomb. He saw no guards apart from the dead ones and darted out, running towards the door and reaching behind him for his 9mm that Frank gave him.

He took another short look around him and stopped near the door, bracing himself against the wall and hearing the pleading repeated ‘No’s that were leaving Ori, getting louder and louder and turning into ‘please don’t kill me’s. A woman’s voice joined in and that’s when he stepped into the room, staying silent and he saw Lewis.

Bucky’s eyes focused on him and then the other two, Ori and Page. He immediately darted over, metal arm at the ready and he dropped to a crouch in front of the two just as Lewis pulled the trigger, the bullet ricocheting off of it and ending up in a wall. A brief second, Bucky turned to the woman, seeing the shock on her face. He heard more twangs of the bullets flying off of his arm and he abruptly stood, swinging his arm out and knocking the gun from his hand. He aimed his own gun and then caught a flash of the wires, taking every piece of control in him to not shoot, and he could hear Frank behind him, telling the two to move.

“Frank, he’s wired!” he called over his shoulder and watched as Lewis rounded away from him fast, heading over to the door where Ori shoved Page into the bomber and promptly sprinted out of the room like a coward. Bucky was tempted to shoot him after that. He deserved to die.

“Shit!” Frank shot back, the two now standing there with guns aimed at Lewis, who was holding Karen in a neck lock, arm braced around her throat.

“I got a bomb! Bucky’s right!” he announced, Bucky watching as he drew the trigger from his waist and held it out, showing them that he was armed. “It’s a Dead Man’s Switch, boys! Now drop ‘em!” They stayed, the both of them still aimed. Bucky was thinking of ten different ways he could shoot him from where he was positioned, but each bullet would be going through a part of Karen and he knew that that wasn’t ideal. Frank didn’t want that.

“You don’t need her, kid,” Frank said softly and started angling the gun down, a hand reaching out to rest atop Bucky’s to angle it down as well. Everything inside him was telling him to keep aiming, to pull the trigger and do his job, but he was trying to do the opposite. He was trying to listen to Frank.

He watched as Lewis started backstepping out of the room, Frank holding his hands up with his gun in hand and Bucky reluctantly did the same, feeling halfway defeated, like he didn’t get the job done. Failure. Hydra never tolerated it.

They followed slowly, filing out of the room with Bucky just behind Frank and he gradually moved to the left of the bigger man, standing at his side with his gun held up in a show of no hostility. He was feeling hostile though.

“Just let her go,” Frank requested carefully as they gradually took steps towards Lewis as he took steps back. He was frantic, almost flustered. This didn't go to plan for Lewis, clearly. He was probably thinking it’d be an easy win, kill Ori, kill Karen. And he wore a Suicide Vest, so he’d considered Frank showing up and/or being cornered.

“Stay back! You want her dead?!” and now he was using her as an effective meatshield. Bucky stayed close to Frank’s side, watching it unfold and heard the footsteps just before a voice called out and men appeared from behind the bomber at the end of the hall.

“Drop your weapons! Let the hostage go!” the guards yelled to them. Bucky took in the Anvil labels on their hats and jackets and he abruptly thought that Frank’s friend didn't do as the soldier requested. They were getting in the way.

“Get back! Everybody, get back!” Lewis spun halfway around to show off the bomb and hostage. Neither side had a clear shot now. “I will blow us all to hell! Back! Get back!” he continued.

“He’s wired! Stand down!” Frank warned the Anvil guards. They didn't seem to take this seriously because their guns were still aimed at both Bucky and Frank  _ and _ the bomber. They couldn’t see the bomb, maybe?

“Everybody, back!” Lewis yelled again, slowly taking steps back and taking Page with him. Bucky glanced over the bombers shoulder, his mind already coming up with Lewis’ escape plan, or… improvisation. The elevator. He was stepping back towards the elevator.

“Everybody hold fire. He’s got a bomb,” Bucky caught movement from the corner of his eye and felt frank nudge him, catching the moment Frank holstered his gun in the front of his belt and Bucky reluctantly did the same but holstered it at the back of his belt slowly. He had a knife hidden on his person, close and easy to grab if necessary.

“I let this go, everybody dies!” Lewis informed aggressively and continued stepping back. Bucky saw the Anvil guys get just a little closer, guns still up and he growled under his breath.

“You think he’s kidding?! Put your guns down!” Bucky yelled towards them, glaring daggers at the idiots. If anyone was going to get them killed, it was them.

“Hands up!” Lewis directed towards the guards and it was like the seriousness of the situation hit them. “Get your hands up!” they holstered their guns slowly and started raising their hands as Lewis hit the elevator button and the doors opened.

“We’ll come for you,” Frank muttered softly and he knew it was directed to Page, comforting her in some way as a button was pressed and Bucky just barely saw the reflection in the glass of which button. Kitchen level.

“Duck!” Bucky barked. They both saw it coming, the moment the elevator doors shut, Anvil grabbed their guns and started firing. To avoid Frank getting hit, Bucky darted in front of Frank as he lowered himself and he shielded him with his arm.

“An Inhuman?!” one of the guards yelled incredulously as the two started running in the opposite direction, shots still being fired with Bucky behind, taking each bullet and letting them ricochet off. “Code Red! We have a Metal Inhuman! Repeat! A Metal Inhuman and the Punisher!”

They continued running down the hall and turned sharply at the end, Frank barreling through the door and Bucky reaching down to grab the dead guards gun, turning and jamming it against the door handle and wall before following after Frank, jumping the first flight of stairs to catch up.

“Kitchen,” he informed the other soldier and then jumped another flight of stairs, getting slightly ahead of Frank and just before he passed the door on a lower flight, Frank grabbed him by the back of the bullet vest and dragged him back, a hand now against his chest to hold him to the wall. A guard threw the door open and just leaned over the railing, looking up and then down before turning away and heading back out to the hallway, the door closing behind him.

_ “Stairwell A, clear,” _ Bucky heard just before it closed and Bucky rolled his eyes before shutting it and heading for the next flight down. “Idiot,” he muttered deeply and quickly descended. They were running down them for ages, flight after flight and he could almost hear Frank’s breathing, he was slowly getting tired and Bucky was still keeping pace. It was like Frank was trying to keep up with Bucky and he was tempted to tell him that he’d go on ahead because Bucky wasn’t tired. He was still full on stamina. If he hurried now, he could get to the kitchen in record time.

“Want me to go ahead?” he called over his shoulder. Even if Frank said no, he probably would anyway. A life was in danger, a life that Frank seemed so worried about and what worried Frank, worried Bucky.  _ And Bucky didn't even know why! _

He could see the stare he got in return, a look of thought passing over his features for a split second before he gave him a heavy nod and Bucky turned back around, speeding up, taking one flight in two jumps. Bucky was two staircases down from Frank when a door suddenly swung open after Frank passed it.

“Castle! Inhuman! Drop the weapons!” they both stopped on the spot, both with weapons in hand, but Bucky’s was aimed directly at the woman, who had her own aimed at Frank. There was a long silence, the lady’s sharp eyes turning to him and she started glaring when she noticed that he already had her targeted.

He quickly shared a look with Frank, seeing the frustration on his face and some familiarity. He knew her, and she wasn’t Anvil. She wasn’t wearing any logos apart from that badge on her hip.

“This isn’t on me, Madani. None of it. My friend either,” Frank replied calmly, standing perfectly still in the middle of the staircase. Bucky was still aiming his weapon at her and he knew that she could feel how serious the situation was. She knew that if she shot at him, Bucky would shoot at her. She had to know that.

“I believe you. Now drop your weapon and tell your  _ friend _ to drop his too,” he took another glance at Frank and saw the very well hidden shake of his head. Frank wasn't telling him to. He wasn’t giving him the incentive to drop it.

“That’s not gonna happen. You’re just gonna have to let this go,” the other soldier suggested, still watching Bucky and keeping an eye on his gun. He didn't want him to shoot her, it felt like. Then she wasn't a part of this. She wasn't the enemy.

“No. No, I’m not gonna let this go. You’re gonna stand up in Court and tell the world about Cerberus, Rawlins, everything. We want the same people, Frank,” she knows about Cerberus, but she clearly doesn’t know all that much about it. Like Frank, she probably thought that it just ended with Rawlins. She hadn’t even scratched the surface of this.

“You been talkin’ to somebody I know, huh?” Frank asked rhetorically. They had a rat… and they hadn’t seen Lieberman since before the bomb situation with Curtis. That damn weasel. Bucky sighed silently behind his mask, deciding to give her an idea of how deep this really went.

“You want the guys behind Cerberus?” he spoke up, catching her attention. “Talk to Hydra. They funded Cerberus. Rawlins is just a pawn,” he pointed out fast and easy and he saw the way her eyes widened and her mouth dropped slightly. She knew what he was talking about.

“Hydra? The Organization that was outed in Washington DC four years ago?” her gun lowered slightly, distracted by what was said and now her own thoughts and he nodded in reply.

There was a moment of silence and in only a split second, Frank made a move, taking a step down and her gun was fired, a warning shot to the railing beside Frank and Bucky took his shot straight after, not even a second later and it was a warning too. He skinned the bridge of her nose and she abruptly took a step back, her hand reaching to her face to check. After a moment her gun was aimed at him and he glared.

“I don’t miss,” he warned her, his voice deeper, more dangerous. He felt the Soldier, the triggers in his head. With the mask on, he felt like him, he could feel him. It was almost like the Winter Soldier was watching from over his shoulder and his flesh hand twitched just slightly. He didn't want the Soldier there, he didn't want to feel his cold, dead, emotionless eyes watching him or watching anyone else through Bucky’s eyes.

He glanced at Frank, seeing the way he was watching him now. He saw it. He saw Bucky’s momentary falter. Bucky blinked at him and gestured downstairs with a flick of his eyes. He needed to go, now. Page was dead otherwise.

“Okay… Buck. Go,” Frank ordered and instantly, Bucky started moving, jumping the next flight and getting out of the way as a shot was fired in his direction.

“No!” another shot was fired after Madani’s yell. Buck ran, jumping the staircases in two leaps each time and getting down there fast. He heard some shouting from above but he kept going and once he was close enough to the bottom floor, he threw himself over the railing, his metal hand bracing him and he was falling, his body already in the position to take the weight when he landed, balls of his boots first. He took the pain easily, feeling it rattle through him, it wasn't bad. He handled it and immediately sprinted towards the kitchen.

A while later and he was jogging through a hallway, metal cutting tables and carts lining the walls. He was definitely in the kitchen area and he slowed to a fast walk, looking around and into rooms where food had previously been cut and hung up and pots and pans were left out. Abandoned. Lewis came through this way.

He was back to jogging and just before he reached double doors, they swung open, a Korean lady running out and screaming when she saw him. Bucky quickly stopped and took a few steps back, hands up to show that he wasn't hostile. She backed up to a wall, inching away slowly and he stayed put, letting the silence fill and to show that he wouldn’t hurt her.

“You’re okay. I’m not here for you or anyone else,” he tried, watching the slow realization dawn on her from what he was saying. “I’m lookin’ for the bomber. He’s got a blonde woman with him? A hostage,”

“Ye-yea, yeah! That way! The kitchen,” she pointed towards the double doors and Bucky felt relief that she ran into him. He stood straight, pressed his hands together in a prayer position and then bowed to the woman.

“Gomabseubnida,” he thanked her and immediately darted through the doors, having seen her face before leaving, taking amusement in the bewilderment that she’d shown. He was moving fast but quietly, stepping with the front of his boots rather than the back, the front taking each impact and making his stride graceful and almost soundless.

_ “Nobody else here has to die,” _ Bucky stopped near another set of double door, his eyes turning to it and his hearing picking up. That was Karen Page. He slowly inched towards the doors, being careful not to touch them and looked through the small square window. He could see her and he could see Lewis, who seemed out of it. He was freaking out.

_ “Shut up!” _ the bomber shot back, holding the remote at her like a gun. He was threatening her, that he’d blow let if she continued. He was flustered, erratic. He was going to make a mistake.

“Okay,” the woman stopped, concerned for her safety and Bucky reached up to his face, pulling apart the velcro at the back of his lower-face balaclava silently. He folded it up and stuck it in his back pocket. He needed a plan, A and B.

“Remember it is ruin to run from a fight. So take open doors, lie down and sit tight,” Bucky frowned, a flash appearing in his mind of Colonel Phillips… he knew this. He’d even trained it into his Units head like the Colonel wanted. “And wait for support like a Soldier. Wait, wait-,”

“-Wait like a Soldier,” Bucky finished in unison with Lewis, loud enough for him to hear and then he heard the immediate freakout and the woman gasping at what Bucky could imagine was Lewis grabbing her. “I’m unarmed,” Bucky lied. He had his gun and his arm, which were both considered weapons. “It’s Bucky,” he added, hearing nothing after that.

He carefully reached for the door, opening it and holding both hands up to show that he didn't have a weapon in hand. He stepped in, immediately seeing Lewis and Karen in the same position of how they left in the elevator. He stepped further in but stayed at a safe distance, one that he knew Lewis was comfortable with. There was a long moment of silence, Lewis now completely on edge and Bucky needed to change that. He gradually lowered his arms, hands splayed so that he still came off as docile.

“I remember our Colonel repeating that over and over. Said that we weren’t real Soldiers if we didn't know it,” that wasn't a lie. The entire Unit knew it, every Unit that Philips had, knew that chant. Some came up with their own sentences and even sang it when they were on break.

“I learned it ‘til I heard it in my sleep, running through my head. In a firefight, it’s the only thing I can think about,” he actually felt bad for the kid. It was like the chant haunted him, even if it was a way to ground him. It was like it broke him, a trigger, and Bucky knew all too well how triggers worked.

“It’s the only thing any good Soldier can think about. And the best time to think about it is in the heat of battle,” he agreed with the kid, trying to keep him talking and keep him calm. He needed him to be relaxed.

“Yeah,” Lewis replied softly. He was still at a safe distance and Bucky took his first glance towards Karen, noting how she was staring at him, trying to figure out what he was doing, to play along maybe? She wouldn’t be able to, not yet. This was pure Military talk.

“You’re a good soldier, Lewis. I should know. I used to get the chance to handpick some guys for my Unit. I was a Sergeant,” that caught his attention. The kid watched him like he was his superior, he could see it in the kid’s eyes. Bucky immediately clicked, figuring out that the kid just needed authority. He was lost, he needed guidance. But he was too dangerous, too volatile.

“You were?” Lewis was listening, his eyes were completely focused on Bucky. He had his complete attention, and now he was getting an idea.

“Yeah. Even after all the bad shit happened, I still hold pride in that. Do you?” he was keeping him talking as his plan was finally coming together in his head. He just needed to get her away from him and-... he felt cold at thinking that Lewis was too dangerous. He had to take him down and just then, he glanced passed Lewis’ shoulder, noticing the cold storage behind him.

“I’m proud of being a soldier,” the kid smiled for a split second. He was really proud to be what he was and it was making him feel colder for what he was planning to do… he’d have to kill him, and he wasn't even the Soldier. Another life, more blood.

“Good. Hold onto that,” Bucky inched forward, making it seem simple and subtle, that it was just a movement and in no way hostile, but would make him take a step back to keep the distance. “You were a Demolitions Expert, right?” the kid nodded frantically. “Thought as much. We had a Team in our Unit and there was a Demolitions Expert there. Dernier. I knew how to disassemble your Claymore because it was like his. Looked the same, felt the same. You even chose the same wire,” he crossed his arms over his chest to seem casual and it was working. Each slow, subtle step made him step back and he was still calm, not hurting Karen and he took a direct glance at her, unbeknown to Lewis. “It was always white,” he quickly returned his gaze to the kid. “He never changed the colour. You remind me of him,” he lied towards the end. Dernier was a batshit crazy pyromaniac, but he’d never hurt innocent people. He was the best kind of psychopath. A great and funny guy.

“Did you… lose your arm in an explosion?” Bucky glanced down, unfolding his left arm from his chest. Lewis wasn't stupid. The kid knew it was a prosthetic because of how he covered it up. He looked back up, eyeing him and then Karen quickly, noticing her lightly gripping a wire and silently asking him if it was that one.

“No,” he shook his head, answering both Lewis and the woman at the same time. “Our Specialist team was on a Mission. We had to Infiltrate a speeding train and it was based on a mountain,” Bucky turned his hand into a fist and caught a glimpse of the next wire Karen held out. “I fell… lost my arm,” he shook his head as an answer to her and a reaction to his memory, his expression turning sour at the thought.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Bucky glanced back up, sending his thoughts to the back of his mind and returning to the plan. He could see the white wire held loosely between her finger and thumb and he could see that they were directly in front of the freezer. It was time.

“Don’t be. With today’s technology, I can still hold and  _ fire a gun _ with it,” the way he said the three words, it was meant to give her an idea of what he was suggesting. “But… it gives me nightmares,” he needed to change this atmosphere. He felt like he was killing an innocent kid here, not a bomber, not a terrorist. “I remember waking up on most nights, wanting my arm back, wanting to be away from all the blood and killing. All the deaths I wracked up and all the families I ruined,” he swallowed. “I killed someone I knew, an old friend. I killed people, assassinated them and… almost all of them were innocent… men, women… and children… I wanted to  _ put a bullet in myself,” _ the last few words were growled out and he snapped his gaze to her, giving her her cue and a bullet was fired directly down, the white wire being pulled.

It happened fast, Lewis yelling, Karen darting away and Bucky sprinting forward, forcing Lewis into the freezer and he heard Frank yelling, having just appeared and saw what happened. Bucky slammed the door shut, locking it and turned to look out the window to see Frank run up and bang on the door.

“Buck! Open it!” he shook his head at Frank and turned back to the kid, seeing the desperation and fear on his face, resignation too and he was shaking. Bucky swallowed and slowly stepped over, watching Lewis shoot to his feet and stare at him.

“You and I both know you’re not getting out of here,” he said softly, calm, composed. Lewis knew it, he did. He saw it on him, saw that the kid knew that he wouldn’t be leaving alive. He needed to do this, Bucky needed it too. “And… I don’t think you want to get outta here,” he gestured to the bomb on his torso. He could see the moment the kid thought about it, confirming what Bucky just pointed at and he heard the sob, seeing Lewis tear up.

“I wish… I was back there,” Lewis sobbed, sniffing and he saw the tears start running. “It was easier,” he whimpered, Bucky taking a few steps forward with no hostility. He was close enough to give him some form of comfort, his flesh hand reaching out and grasping his shoulder like a superior would.

“I know it was,” he said softly, agreeing with him wholeheartedly and then felt the kid turn and drop his head against Bucky’s shoulder, still sobbing. The kid needed to get out. He needed to free himself from all this PTSD. He’d hurt so many people, but it was hurting him just as much.

“I’m lost. I don’t know what to do anymore,” he cried into his shoulder and Bucky grasped at the back of the kid’s neck, bumping their heads together. He needed this. Bucky would keep telling himself that because he knew that he did. Bucky wanted this for himself, but he couldn’t die so easily and he knew that Steve would never forgive him.

“Free yourself from this,” he said softly, feeling Lewis move his head and they were both staring at each other, tears still in the kid’s eyes and then, he nodded at Bucky, who started first. “When you’re wounded and left on the battlefields plains,” Lewis reached down and started fitting the white wire back into the trigger. They both ignored the punching and beating on the metal door, Frank yelling and Karen shouting in the background.

“-And the women come out to cut what remains… Just roll to your rifle and blow out your brains… And go to your God like a Soldier,” Lewis joined, both speaking in unison. Bucky stayed still, aware that even though the bomb wouldn’t kill him, he’d definitely be hurt by the blast while standing this close. But he couldn’t move. This would be his punishment for taking this life.

“Go go go, like a Soldier,” Lewis finished and at the last second, Bucky threw his metal arm up to shield his face, neck and chest and he felt the sudden burst of heat burn through him, blowing him back violently against the door. He was in intense pain immediately and he felt the door give under the weight of him and the blast. The door broke off of its hinges and he surfed it across the way, feeling it hit the floor and jar him before it stopped, smoke pouring out over him and into the entire room.

\----------

He saw it coming and he couldn’t do a damn thing. Frank had launched back to get Karen out of the blast radius and they both ended up face down, ears ringing, eyes unfocused, disoriented. He could barely make anything out and eventually after a long time squirming, he’d turned over to see Karen lying there, hand against her head with some blood smeared there.

“Are you okay?” he asked slowly and gruffly, still screwed up himself, dazed and barely able to make out anything. He got a groan and a nod as a response and tried forcing himself to move, getting himself up onto his hands and knees. “Bucky?” he called out loud as he squinted, looking around the room.

After a moment of trying, he saw a dark shape, black clothes and something shiny to the side. He frowned, squinting harder and forced himself to his feet with some grunts and groans, dragging Karen up too and he started stumbling over to it, eyes slowly adjusting and he started moving faster when he realized that it was Bucky. He dropped achingly to a knee between Buck’s thighs so that he was leaning over him his other leg resting on his boot so he had balance.

“Buck?” he called, seeing no movement and he reached out, checking for a pulse against his throat. It was fast, real fast. He was alive at least. “Bucky?” Frank called again and grabbed the guys jaw, giving his head a shake and feeling him respond, trying to get his face out of the grip. A moment later and he saw the Soldiers eyes inch open, looking up at him and he swore he saw so much relief on his face that Frank almost  _ physically felt _ it. The guy was happy that Frank was there, or maybe that he was alive.

“Already healing,” Bucky stated deeply and roughly. The blast winded him and Frank knew that he was talking shit because the side of his face that his arm couldn’t shield had burns and they weren’t healing yet. He was making light of heavy injuries.

“You’re an idiot,” Frank pointed out, shaking his head and huffing. He ran a hand over his face and looked towards the guy's arm. The  _ shiny thing _ he saw was his arm. The blast burnt up the sleeve, tore it apart. There was only ripped up and crispy rags covering half of his shoulder. Half of that red star was showing.

“Said the pot to the kettle,” Bucky replied slowly, his voice gritty and worn. Frank huffed, half amused, half exasperated. He looked down at Bucky, glancing over the mess of blood, burns and ash covering him. He was breathing, he was alive and he made a damn joke. This guy was unkillable. Even a damn bomb in a confined space couldn’t take him out.

“Guys, we gotta hurry,” he heard Karen call and he could hear the faint sounds of Please radio chatter nearby. He huffed and reminded himself to thank and apologize to Bucky later for this. He reached down, looping his left arm between the Soldiers arm and side, hand angled up so that he could hook his hand between the crook of his neck. He felt Bucky move with him, his arm hooking around Frank’s shoulder, making sure he wasn't grabbing at an injured part of him.

“C’moooon,” Frank lifted, dragging Bucky to his feet and he could feel just how bad the Soldier was actually hurt because Frank was taking more than half the guys weight for the moment. Buck was leaning into him, using Frank to stabilize himself before taking his own weight again, and even then, he was still holding the guy up.

“I have an idea,” he glanced over at her just as he got Bucky situated against him, standing and needing a moment to catch his balance. “Use me as a hostage,”

“What about Buck?” Frank asked as he shifted his good arm around Bucky’s waist, holding him hip to hip as he felt him sway a little. When they got back, he’d make sure to check him over.

“I can stand, I just need somethin’ to hold on to,” the Soldier spoke up, his voice deep and rough still. Frank doubted that he could, what with the shape he was in. He didn't think Bucky could heal fast enough to be able to hold onto anything and stand, let alone walk.

“Frank’s shoulder? Or back?” Karen suggested and again, Frank was doubting it. He’d be moving, Bucky would have to keep up with them while holding onto him and he could stumble or something. He wasn't thinking that Buck wasn't strong enough to or graceful enough to keep his footing but in his current state? How the hell would he manage to keep pace with them when he was leaning half of his weight on Frank right now?

“That’ll do,” Bucky replied and Frank shook his head. They were royally screwed.

It took them a long moment to get positioned, Frank holding Karen to him, back to chest with the tip of his gun directly jammed under her jaw, keeping her movements limited and Bucky was holding onto his shoulder. Frank found out the hard way that there was no chance that he could have the metal arm touching him after the explosion. The heat radiated from the metal. The blast heated that arm up and as soon as he felt it touch his skin, he hissed and cursed. It was hot and Bucky actually remembered  _ after _ the fact that his arm was like that.

They slowly and awkwardly left the room, heading through the double doors towards the elevator and he kept conscious of both Karen and Bucky. The latter was actually keeping pace and still sort of leaning against him for support. Once they were close to the corner, he slowed, aware that the cops were around it.

“Don’t shoot,” Karen called out and Frank forced the three to step out from behind the wall, Bucky staying behind him, hidden and holding on tight. “Don’t shoot. Don’t shoot,” she repeated and Frank slowly headed to the elevator doors. He felt Bucky shift and heard the button being pressed.

“Hold your fire! Stand down. Everybody, stand down,” Brett ordered as he holstered his weapon, being smart. “Let her go, Castle. You and your Inhuman partner just surrender,” Frank had to think for a second and then remembered what happened in the hallway when Bucky blocked the bullets and the Anvil guard just called in that Bucky was an Inhuman. Funny. At least Bucky wouldn’t be found as the Winter Soldier unless he was caught at this point. “There’s no way outta this. Got the whole building surrounded,” as soon as the elevator doors opened he stepped forward and stepped back into it, letting Bucky fall against the side wall and press random buttons so the doors were closed.

As soon as they were, the three just dropped, Karen and Frank against the walls and he saw Bucky drop to his ass on the ground, pretty much limp. A moment longer and he watched as Karen reached over Bucky to pull the Emergency Stop knob, the elevator coming to an abrupt halt, jerking the three of them and his eyes shot to Bucky when he heard the growl leave him, the guys metal hand hovering over a really bloody and burned part of his chest, where some of the skin and meta on the left pec were mismatched together.

“Oh my god,” Frank’s eyes shot to Karen as she threw herself back and Frank looked to where she was staring. The red star. Shit.

“Hey. Hey, Karen. Calm down,” he reached out his good arm, having enough energy to stand and move so that he was in the middle of the box, standing halfway between them.

“Calm Down?! He’s the Winter Soldier!” he could see how freaked out she was, getting frantic fast and he could almost imagine her heart bursting through her chest at any second just from seeing him there.

“He’s the guy that just saved your ass from a psychopath,” Frank countered simply, not raising his voice or tone, but just stating a fact. She should understand that much. It was a similar situation to Frank before. She tried saving him, he saved her and now the Soldier saved them.

“But- I- he! The Winter Soldier, Frank!” she directly pointed at Bucky and stared at Frank like he wasn't aware of this fact. “And you’re the Punisher! The Winter Soldier  _ and _ the Punisher!” she wracked her hands through her hair and dropped back against the wall, panting, breathing heavily.

“It’d be a whole lot worse if he wasn't here right now, Karen,” he replied curtly, stepping towards her and getting her to look directly at him. “I saved him a while ago. He’s been hidin’ out with me. If I left him back at the Safe House, we’d be dead.  _ You _ would definitely be dead right now if it wasn’t for him,” he explained as easily as he could, watching her register what he’d just told her. “He’s on our side,”

There was a long moment of silence and Frank took a step back, looking down towards Bucky and then held out his hand. They needed to get going. They were wasting time.

“Are you?” Karen asked as he pulled him to his feet, hearing and feeling him straining to move for a moment. Bucky huffed and leaned against the wall, his head turning to Karen and Frank watched their shared stare carefully.

“Frank saved me from Hydra. I owe him big time,” that was bullshit. Frank turned to stare at Bucky and he could see that even Bucky knew it was bullshit. There was a glint in his eye, something warm and soft and he felt a warm spark in his chest from the way that Bucky just looked at him.

“That stare says something more than you owe him,” Karen stated flatly and that drew him from his moment of fixation.

“Can we stop talking. I need to lie down… fast,” Bucky spoke up and that was Frank’s cue. He looked around the hatch and stepped over, reaching up and jumping to force the cover away.

“Yeah, here,” he gestured to it and motioned for Bucky to get closer. Karen stepped away and was just watching while Frank got out of the way, giving Buck space. “Need help?” he asked as the Soldier eyed the hole and then saw him nod slowly. He was still not healed enough, and Frank didn't think he’d be all that healed by the time they got back either.

He dropped to a knee and let Bucky use the leg with the boot planted on the ground, giving him a step up to be able to grab the edge of the hatch with both hands, the metal one seeming to do the most work to be able to drag himself up. He moved to stand and turned to face Karen, seeing her send him an uncertain smile.

“Be careful,” she said softly and he nodded, looking up when he saw something move and looked at the metal arm that was being held down to him. He huffed lowly and grabbed the arm with his good one, the metal was cooler and he felt himself being lifted, Frank stupidly deciding to use his other arm to help lift him when he heard Bucky wince.


	17. Chapter 17

Hours upon hours upon hours until dawn, Bucky watched the man stare into the fire, a blanket wrapped around him to both hide his wounds and keep him warm. The Soldier had pretty much already healed up, dried blood being left over and he had his own blanket to hide his arm. His shirt-,  _ Frank’s shirt, _ was completely charred.

He was betrayed, Frank’s expression was entirely open to Bucky and he could read him. He was dead to everything around him, eyes fixed on the flames spilling upwards from the metal can. He didn't know how to help, he was never good at this. Comfort was hard to give when it came from someone that was just as broken.

His eyes focused on where the light was coming from, squinting when the morning sun hit them just right and half-blinded him. Dawn was the brightest part of the day, at least that was what  _ he _ thought. He sighed and returned his gaze to Frank, eyeing him over for the umpteenth time that night. He wouldn’t be surprised if one of his injuries was infected at this point. The blanket he was using to cover himself wasn't exactly the cleanest, nor would it stop bacteria from sinking into his gashes.

“Frank,” he verbally prodded quietly, attempting to get his attention and got no reply or response. The man's eyes were still entranced by the fire and Bucky leaned forward, his movements slow as he rested his elbows on his knees, sitting across from him. “Frank,” he tried again, still somewhat soft and quiet. Again, nothing. He sighed softly and glanced around slowly, keeping his senses sharp still, even after their hectic day yesterday and being awake for as long as he had. He’d refrained from yawning in favour of keeping himself guarded and ready for anything while Frank was as out of it as he was.

Bucky shook his head lightly and returned his gaze to the other man, eyeing him  _ again _ before running a hand through his hair and gradually pushing himself to stand, feeling the light throbbing through his body from the explosion. He was still aching, no matter how healed he was. He slowly rounded the flaming can until he was standing beside Frank, his hand slipping out from under his own blanket and gently resting on the larger man’s shoulder.

He saw the exact moment Frank zoned in, some sort of life returning to his eyes as they jerked, muscles shifting as he tensed just slightly under Bucky’s hand. A bigger hand appeared from under the other blanket, reaching up and covering Bucky’s for a moment before gripping, showing that he was still there and that he was fine, maybe.

“We need to clean those wounds, Frank,” Bucky spoke as softly as before, gripping back and being careful of the wound closer to his neck. He didn't squeeze hard at all, just a simple acknowledgement. And Frank huffed, a puff of mist leaving his nose. Bucky watched as the man stood, blanket still wrapped around him, Bucky’s as well. He made the first step, hand reluctantly leaving his shoulder as he headed towards the entrance to this empty are filled with flaming cans and the homeless. They got no looks, no stares or judgement. It was refreshing.

They left the area, Bucky keeping his eyes peeled, glancing this way and that and having their backs while Frank was still in a funk. He was aware, keeping to his usual  _ look inconspicuous _ trick, but the Soldier could see the internal conflict between trying to rationalize and anger. Though Anger was an understatement. He was sure that he was seething inside.

It took too long to get back to base. Bucky could see the exhaustion in Frank, in his posture and face, regardless of how well hidden it was. As soon as they were done with his injuries, he’d be sending Frank to lie down. The Soldier blinked.  _ Like back when it was Steve that was always hurt. Bucky was the same back then, stitching the guy back up and sending him to bed to heal up. _

He took a long look around, making sure that they were safe before opening the door and letting Frank in first. They shed the blankets once they were inside and they both descended the long staircases, passing Bucky’s spot where he tended to be whenever he wanted silence. He could hear the voices, slightly static as it came from speakers. The TV. Lieberman was here then, about damn time.

_ “- one last question, Mr Russo. If Castle were standing here right now, what would you say to him?,” _ the Soldier lifted his eyes to Frank as they silently entered the walkway between the bedroom and Hub. The other man had paused in his stride, staring at the ground ahead of him as the Anchor woman stopped talking.

_ “What happened to you, Frank?” _ Barnes stopped beside him, still watching him and he could feel the hatred leaving Frank’s body in waves. Billy Russo was on his list now, that much was clear. His days were numbered.

_ “Thank you, Mr Russo,” _ the Anchor woman continued talking, babbling in the background while they stood there for a long moment. Bucky glanced into the Hub, the Hacker only then acknowledging them, his mouth falling open when he saw them, an incredulous frown crossing his features when he saw their state and he felt the piercing stare from over his shoulder, Frank staring deep, dark daggers at the man in the Hub.

The Soldier sighed lightly and walked on ahead, leading himself to the bathroom where there was a first-aid-kit and a shower. He needed one after that, Frank, too and he wanted to make sure that everything was there to clean the man up. Unlike Bucky, Frank could easily pick up an infection with wounds like those.

Only a few minutes later and he heard Frank’s limping footsteps, the kit sat on the sink open and ready to be used. Bucky stood there, holding a needle and thread, knotting the very end of a piece of thread. He glanced around when he saw the man’s reflection in the mirror near the door to the bathroom, setting the needle down in reach and turning to meet the man as he came over, staring into the mirror. He’d stopped and just stayed like that, unnaturally still, disciplined and waiting.

The Soldier didn't need any sign to begin. He reached out, Frank being able to see his movements through the mirror, and carefully gripped the torn circle around a large piece of metal lodged in his bicep. He pulled, tearing the fabric wider and even wider, stretching and breaking it so much that he could free Frank from it, tossing it aside and assessing the larger man. His wounds were deep, he could tell just by looking at them.

“I’m sorry. This’ll hurt,” Bucky apologised preemptively, aware that this would hurt. He’d be agitating the injuries while cleaning them and stitching skin back together. He reached out and turned the tap on, cold water spraying out and he grabbed a cloth, the water soaking it.

“You’re the last person that’d hurt me intentionally,” his breath caught in his throat, Bucky snapping his gaze up to Frank to meet his stare, almost warm as they watched him, inviting. The man sounded so sure that Bucky wouldn’t hurt him and he didn't know what to make of it. It sounded so… genuine, so comforting, that Bucky’s chest warmed, his heart skipping.

He cleared his throat and gnawed the inside of his lip, reaching up with the wet cloth to carefully wipe the blood from his face. Frank was still gazing at him while he cleaned, Bucky trying hard to focus on helping the man rather than fall into a  _ gazing _ match. Regardless of what he made others think, Steve included, he still remembered being a hopeless romantic and he was afraid that maybe some of that old trait would return since he actually felt like he and Frank had…  _ something. _ He had no clue what it was, but there was something there and Frank clearly knew that too.

The cloth was lifted from his hand, the other soldier going about cleaning his own face and Bucky decided to continue with what he’d been planning. He carefully wrapped his metal hand around Frank’s bicep, not tight, but just keeping him there. The other man knew what he was planning, his muscle tensed and he heard the wince from it. His other hand gripped the metal lodged in Frank’s arm and glanced up, seeing that the man had paused, readied himself for it and they both took a sharp, deep breath before he pulled it out. Castle half groaned and half growled, his body completely clenching and tensing, teeth grinding.

“Sorry,” he uttered softly, dropping the piece of metal in the sink, blood dripping from the wound. Bucky grabbed an extra rag and soaked it before carefully dabbing around the large gash. He couldn’t really stitch him up if he couldn’t really see where the injury started and ended. There was too much blood.

“Jesus,” Lieberman’s voice broke the quiet atmosphere, Bucky not bothering to give him a glance. This had nothing to do with him, he wasn't a part of this. He knew that Frank was angry with  _ him _ too and he couldn’t blame the man. David went behind Frank’s back to talk to Madani. He got the gist of their situation. The Agent only need witnesses, proof and both David and Frank would be set, but it wasn't that simple, it never was. Both men agreed to go to her together and the Hacker clearly couldn’t wait.

There was a heavy silence that fell over the three, not as comforting as when it was just Bucky and Frank. It was tenser. The Soldier rested the wet cloth against the wound, keeping it there for a long moment to soak up as much blood as it could while it gradually slowed. He wanted to stitch the gash on his head first.

“You two gonna talk to me?” Bucky said nothing, Frank doing the same. He removed the cloth to eye the wound, satisfied that the blood had slowed enough. He then rinsed it off under the cold water. “I mean, I can fill in some of the holes from when I saw you last,” Bucky rolled his eyes and squeezed the wet rag, not hard enough for all the water to leave it, but it was more than damp, still dripping. “World knows you’re alive, and working with an  _ Inhuman? _ The city thinks you two are terrorists. You had something to do with blowing up a Hotel, I think,” he sounded half uncertain, half aware. Like he expected that this was Frank’s doing, but was questioning it.

Bucky lifted the cloth to Frank’s head, carefully clearing up the blood above his ear, on the side of his head where he’d been grazed by one of Russo’s bullets. It was deep, blood still slowly oozing. He held the rag over it, soaking up the blood and occasionally dabbing it. He could see from the clenching in Frank’s jaw that this was a little painful. That, and/or Lieberman was just irritating him. Could be either.

“This is just a guess, but it seems like your buddy, Billy Russo, turned out to be dirty after all,” the  _ I told you so _ was in his tone, faint and subtle, no point to it actually being added to the end of his sentence. Bucky finally glanced up, a frown creasing his brow, the centre pointed down and Lieberman met his gaze, blinking awkwardly straight after because he knew that this was the worst time to mention something like that. Frank obviously knew this, he didn't need a reminder.

“You know I’m here too, you can talk to me, not just the Soldier-,” Bucky’s stare darkened slightly, the Hacker pausing, hands raised to show that he meant no offence. “-not just Bucky,” he corrected. “I’m assuming the plan is to go after Billy Russo and kill him, am I right?” he paused, eyeing them both over and Bucky returned to cleaning up as much of the wound as he could before grabbing the needle and thread that he’d set out ready. “Charge back into the City where every cop in town wants to blow both your heads off? Modern day Bonnie and Clyde?- Sorry, Clyde and Clyde?”

“Keep talkin’ and I’m gonna blow  _ your _ head off,” Bucky replied automatically with a sharp edge to his tone, a thread that he wouldn’t follow through with, but the Hacker didn't know that. He relied on Frank to keep Bucky from doing just that and he knew it. Lieberman still saw Bucky as a dangerous man that Hydra still had some sway over, he was sure of that.

The Soldier reached up, his metal hand resting up against Frank’s head, his index finger and thumb on either side of the gash so that he could pull the skin together enough to start stitching. He pressed the very tip of the needle through the skin, feeling slightly guilty since he knew this hurt from his own experience. 

“Frank, I can’t imagine how you must feel, knowing that billy betrayed you,” the Hacker spoke up again, bucky focusing on his task. He was careful and efficient with his hands, metal and flesh. “He’s gotta pay for that. But we gotta be smart here.  _ You _ gotta be smart. In reality, nothing’s really changed,” his gaze caught the momentary twitch in the biggers mans’ nose when that last part was said and by then, Bucky was at the end of the gash, having moved fast and gotten through the stitching. It was perfect, sturdy and tight, no chance of the stitches coming loose unless Frank purposely cut them himself.

“Everything’s changed,” the other soldier replied deeply, eyes still fixed in the mirror, staring at himself and then back to Bucky just as he reached up and pinched the end of the thread with his metal fingers, breaking it. He got another piece of thread and eyed Frank’s busted up arm as he stuck the thread through the needle hole and knotted the very end of it again before wrapping his metal hand around his bicep, his fingers holding the gash together.

“Yeah? How’s that? You, me-,” the Soldier heard Frank breath in sharply when he felt the pin go through his skin. “-Bucky. We’re still a team. What happens to you, happens to us,” that wasn't strictly true. Yesterday, it was both Frank and Bucky and nothing from their actions affected Lieberman in the slightest.

“Is that right?” Frank replied softly, but the undertone in his voice was dark. “So, you betrayed me. Do I betray you?” the bigger man asked the Hacker through the reflection in the mirror, Bucky still working on stitching up the gash on his arm. He was half way through, being as careful and fast as he could be.

“Talking about Madani? We agreed to go to her,” David replied as if it were obvious and Bucky could tell that he was slowly coming to a conclusion of what else was making Frank act this way towards him as well as everything/one in general, bar for Bucky anyway.

“Yeah, we agreed to do it together,” Frank stated before Lieberman reached his answer, the other soldier turning his body slightly and Bucky almost sticking him with the needle in the process. He gave Frank a pointed stare, the man staying where he was, so Bucky started stitching him from their new position.

“Yeah, that was before you ran off after Lewis Wilson. I did  _ exactly _ what you and I said we were gonna do. I told her about Rawlins. I told her that you’re the witness she needs,” there was a pause and Bucky glanced up to see Lieberman staring at him expectantly, but he said nothing and returned to stitching, efficient and clean, tight and sturdy like the one on his head. “But she asked about our  _ Inhuman friend _ and that she wants him too. So now she needs the  _ both _ of you,” the Hacker sounded exasperated, arms waving around. “I told her everything I needed to -not including the  _ Winter Soldier _ part- so that we can end this. And this has gotta end,” the man finished, Bucky as well. He pinched the thread after knotting it in place and set the needle down, eyeing the stitch over before deeming it perfect.

“Yeah, this did end,” the Soldier glanced up, eyeing Frank for a moment. “You, me, this place. It ended. I’m done,” that was unexpected. The Soldier looked up and glanced between Frank and David, not saying a word. This didn't involve Bucky, not directly. He turned away and dampened the rag again, wiping it over his face as the silence stretched on. Not long later and footsteps were heard leaving the room, Bucky looking over his shoulder to see that he and Frank were the only ones in the room again, the latter staring ahead to where the door was.

Lieberman had left, the silence was still awkward though and Bucky returned to face the sink, running the rag over his face and watching as the blood dripping into the bowl, dried red pieces falling from his face. It was irritating, itchy. He ran the cloth under the water again, squeezing it and letting the blood sink from it.

“It’d be easier to just get in the shower,” he heard Frank speak up, his voice deep, but quiet. Bucky glanced over at him, the other soldier watching him in return. He debated it for only a few seconds before turning the tap off and heading over to the shower across from him. He grabbed the hem of his tattered shirt and pulled it up, dried blood pulling at his skin from where it’d leaked through the shirt. It was definitely a better idea than wasting time cleaning himself at the sink when he could just use the shower. It was faster.

“You too,” Bucky muttered in response as he reached into the shower and switched it on, pulling back so that he could strip down from the rest of his clothes, boots being kicked off first and then jeans and underwear. All of which belonged to Frank.

He stood there in nothing, waiting for the water to heat up enough. Bucky couldn’t stand the cold showers, it was too similar, too much like the icebox, Cry-Sleep. He wanted his memories back, but not  _ those _ memories. He didn't want any more nightmares and standing in cold showers triggered panic attacks, horrible ones. 

He waited only a few seconds longer before stepping in, not paying any attention to anything else before feeling the water hit him, a lukewarm spray drenching his entire body in a matter of seconds, hair draping over his face as he tilted his head forward and water running down his hair and face, taking the blood with it and tinting the water red as it reached the floor. It continued to heat up, not scalding, but close enough. He liked it hot instead of cold, it was comforting.

Bucky just stood there for a long moment, his attention focused on the shower, but he could hear shifting outside of the box of steam he was standing in. Not long later and the door to the shower opened, Bucky lifting his head to see Frank stepping into the shower with him, closing the door and stepping closer until he was behind the Soldier. His nerves were settled, calm. Frank wasn't a threat. 

He wanted to lean back, wanted to know that Frank was there, that he was  _ really _ there. Bucky was by no means vulnerable and he didn't feel it either. He was the least vulnerable person there was, but what happened the day before in that freezer with Lewis… it shook him, if only a small bit. He wasn't the Winter Soldier, he wasn't that monster as of right now, but when he was standing there, practically  _ urging _ Lewis to use the bomb, he felt like him. He felt like the Winter Soldier was there, watching him, urging  _ him _ to urge the kid. He  _ willingly _ let the boy die, kill himself. And he just stood there. He was sure that Frank would’ve done something similar, but he wasn't Frank and he knew that Steve wouldn’t have wanted that. Steve would’ve gone about it differently, would’ve tried to find a way to save him that didn't involve death.

So what did that make Bucky?

The Soldier was still stuck in his own mind as he felt Frank’s hand against his skin, callused but gentle as he ran it up Bucky’s neck and jaw, rubbing off some of the blood that was still there that the water hadn’t reached. One side of his long fringe was pulled aside, tucked behind his ear, his head being tilted back by the hand under his chin. His eyes closed as the spray of water hit his face directly, the hand still running over him to remove the blood, from his neck to his arm to his chest… The hand ran close to the metal, the sound of water hitting his arm sounding different to the water hitting his skin.

“Block it out until you feel safe,” the voice was even deeper in the shower, warm against his ear. It was comforting and it odd.  _ Comfort. _ He hadn’t felt it in so long and yet, in the last few hours, if not days, he’d felt it in Frank’s presence. He felt it more with Frank than he did with Steve and he wasn't sure how to process that.

“I  _ do _ feel safe,” he replied shortly and drew his gaze to the man of his internal subject. Bucky stared at him, his eyes soft. Frank paused in what he was doing to meet the Soldiers’ gaze, silence falling on them, apart from the shower.

The hand on his chest rose to his face, cupping his jawline and tilting his head slightly. He watched as Frank started leaning down, testing him, experimental. And Bucky leaned up, both getting closer and closer, his heartbeat starting to skip faster and faster until he felt Frank’s lips meet his own, pressing against his in a firm kiss.


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry that I didn't get back to this sooner. I don't have an excuse, nor am I going to give one. I was simply inspired to get back to it. Even though my motivation for this story was high, my motivation and enthusiasm for my work on Wattpad were much higher.
> 
> I only recently decided to set things aside and get on with this because, by chance, I started randomly chatting with someone on Tumblr that I've followed for a while. We ended up talking for days and when I mentioned my Frank/Bucky story, the person got excited, asking me about the title, I said "Forgotten Soldiers" and it was almost immediate Fanboying. They kickstarted my drive to get back into this story.
> 
> I appreciate the feedback, I really do. It's incredible to see how many people really read and like my work, and I'm trash for not getting back to this sooner for all of you. What restarted this was meeting one of you by chance and that really pushed me back towards getting my on-goings done. So thank you all so much!
> 
> And thank you to the other awesome psycho that I now call a friend. You know who you are.

The Soldier sat on the table beside the truck, wearing more of the other mans’ clothes, his boots up on a chair with his elbows resting on his knees while Frank worked beside him, spray painting something white onto his bullet vest. He’d been watching intently, eyes focused on the other soldiers’ handiwork. After that shower, he wanted to stay close, within reach and not like some clingy girlfriend. Bucky just wanted to be closer to what made him feel safe and he hoped that Frank understood that. He more than likely did, he wasn't stupid.

A moment later and Bucky saw the shape of what was painted onto the vest, a white skull. It took him a few seconds to understand why he chose that and then he remembered one of the meanings. A Memento Mori, a skull that represented life and death. There was more to it than just that, but he focused on the _why_ he would use that. Bucky had a less chance of being killed and he hoped that he’d be a good factor in this, that he could actually back Frank up and make sure that he wouldn’t end up dead.

He’d been so deep in his thoughts that he only registered that Frank had grabbed another vest when the one with the skull had been dropped beside Bucky, Frank now spraying something onto the other one. He stared, noting that he began making a star but in a bright silver. He was fast about it like he had been with the first and then he saw the other soldier pick up the red spray, Bucky’s brow furrowing in question before he saw the red star outline and his eyes widened. He made Bucky a symbol. Yeah, it was still the Star, but it was different. A Silver Star with a Red outline, it wasn't the Soviet Star. It had a whole other meaning that Frank gave it. It wasn't the _Winter Soldier_ Star, it was _his_ star. Frank gave him a Star.

The Soldier looked up from the vest to Frank, locking eyes with him. Nothing needed to be said, the other man clearly saw what he’d felt in his eyes, Bucky feeling warmth build in his chest. He felt the strong hand pat the inside of his thigh in acknowledgement before going back to the vests, putting Bucky’s on top of Franks’ before the man picked them up and turned to round the table, Bucky staying perfectly still and content.

“Oh yeah, that’s very subtle,” Lieberman poked in sarcastically after seeing the bullet vests designs. It drew a quiet, exasperated sigh from the Soldier. “Doesn’t look like the Winter Soldier star or anything,” he growled under his breath and turned to stare at the Hacker.

“Tempted to give you a close-up, personal look at the star, and maybe make you see some of your own,” he warned loosely, aware that he couldn’t, regardless of how much he really wanted to. Frank would just stop him like every other time he’d tried over the last few weeks.

“Great come back,” Lieberman replied with a shrugged off tone, unfazed by Bucky’s words, or at least he seemed to be. There’d been a flicker of something in his face that told him he’d restrained himself from flinching.

“I wasn't programmed for talking. I was programmed for killing,” that definitely drew that flinch out. He saw the momentary stiffened muscles and focused gaze. The man was still on the fence about the Soldier, which made Bucky feel somewhat victorious that he still did affect the man with the things he said that related to violence, specifically towards the Hacker.

Bucky heard the footsteps rounding him, a hand being pressed to his shoulder on the way past as Frank made for the stairs to the bedroom, passing by the Hacker to get his things. He began cramming things into his duffel, the Soldier watching carefully, his gaze being drawn to Lieberman as he stood and stood in the frame to the door.

“You know what that is, right? That’s _your_ death. Not theirs,” the man knew what the skull meant, much like Bucky did. He knew that this was some kind of suicide mission for the man. “You do this, you’re as good as dead already,” he added, trying to sway Frank out of doing this. It’d be in vain. Even Bucky wouldn’t be able to persuade him. That was the reason he decided on going with him.

“It’s who I am. Who I’ve always been,” Frank muttered back as he packed away his stuff, Bucky watching as he paused to look at a photo in a sort of side table. He picked it up, staring for a long moment before his gaze lifted, landing on the Soldier for a few stretched out seconds before putting that in the bag too.

“Seriously? You’d rather be dead than feeling?” Lieberman asked with frustration, his voice rising to the point that it echoed through the base. “Frank Castle, The Punisher, on a suicide mission because, what, he doesn’t like it when he gets his feelings hurt?” he finished with a loud disbelieving tone.

“Damn, I’m not gonna miss the sound of your voice,” he heard Frank mutter as he zipped up his bag and checked around the bed for anything he might have forgotten. Which he didn't seem to. He looked around but never picked anything else up.

“Okay, what about _him?”_ Bucky blinked and glanced at Lieberman, noting that he’d pointed at him, Frank turning to look over his shoulder at the Hacker and then at Bucky. “You two clearly got something going between you and you’re gonna give that up to get killed? Does he get a say in any of this?”

“I’ve had my say,” the Soldier finally spoke up, huffing slightly at the stupidity of this situation. “I’m going to make sure he doesn’t end up dead,” he pointed frowned at Frank, a face that gave him a warning that if he did end up dead, he’d bring him back just to kill him himself.

“Oh because that’ll work. Big Winter Soldier Bodyguard,” the Hacker aimed the mockery directly at Bucky and he growled under his breath again, about ready to knock the bastard out and leave him there.

“Can I kill him now?” he asked Frank after a while of silence, watching as the other soldier shook his head and strode down the steps, packing away his things in the back of the truck along with the bullet vests.

“Just one more thing. What about them?!” Lieberman gestured into the Hub towards the video surveillance sitting on the upper desk as Frank climbed the stairs again to get something else, slowing down as he got closer to the Hacker. “What about Zach, Leo and Sarah? When we first started this, before the Soldier came into the picture, it wasn't about the dead, it was about the living,” it was around that moment that Frank stopped entirely, eyes fixed on the screen and Bucky saw and felt the change in the man, his suspicion flickering.

“Wait a sec,” the Soldier perked up, following the other soldier gaze as he stepped into the centre of the Hub. “What happened here? Look at that, right there,” he gestured to the third cam, Bucky frowning, and then the forth, the larger of the three men pointing at something on the screen. He stood from his spot and quickly made his way up the steps and into the Hub as well, eyes focusing on what had been pointed at, Lieberman standing beside him for a moment, staring before turning away to his controls as Frank added a simple. “Go back,”

Bucky watched as everything began rewinding, eyes scanning the screen, picking up everything as the seconds passed by. Soon, figures appeared on the screen, fast and jittery. “There,” Frank mentioned, the time stopping and slowing to a regular pace. Two seconds into the feed and the Woman, Sarah, had been forced into the kitchen, thrown against the island in the centre with a yell, trying to be subdued by an Officer. His jaw tensed hard, clenching.

“Oh my god!” the Hacker groaned from behind them, his voice cracking as Sarah continued. _“Get away from my family or I swear to God I’ll use this!”_ she warned with a meat knife in hand, her son being dragged in from behind her by another Officer. _“Drop it!”_ the second one had ordered, the boy whimpering. _“Mom, I’m sorry!”_

“When was that?” Frank asked with a sharp and serious tone as the Cop yelled a _Do it!_ Lieberman becoming flustered fast. “How long ago?” the other soldiers’ tone raised. “C’mon! Pull yourself together and do your job! When was it?” again, the Hacker seemed too flustered, his face turning red, his hands having no clue what to do. Bucky abruptly turned around and shifted the Hacker out of the way, a harsh sob like huff leaving him and he began typing fast and calmly.

“Fifty-three minutes ago,” Bucky answered smoothly, standing from where he’d been hunched over. He glanced around, noting how frantic the lanky man seemed, a gun being pulled seemingly out of nowhere before he strode fast forward and turned out of the Hub.

“David, stop,” Frank called out to the Hacker, who just seemed to not hear him. “Hey, hey, hey, hey! Stop!” the mans’ voice rose again, deeper and louder. _“What?”_ Lieberman replied sharply, slowing down after stepping down the stairs, coming to a stop shortly after. “Just come on! Think!” Bucky turned around as the other man stepped out of the Hub after the Hacker, the Soldier leaning against the table, watching the two. It was then that he caught on to something, his mind reeling through his thoughts. Anticipation gradually flooding his veins with realization.

“They’re coming,” he muttered softly, though loud enough for them to hear. It drew their attention, drawing they gaze to him.

“Who?” the Hacker asked, turning around, arms waved out in _the hell are you talkin’ about!?_ And Bucky turned his own gaze on Frank, eyes locking for a moment, a silent conversation being shared between them.

“Rawlins, Russo, Hydra. They’re coming here,” the soldier caught on. “Sarah has my number,” he realized, muttering in general, to no one as he really picked up on what was happening. “They know who Pete Castiglione is,” he spoke above a whisper.

“She wouldn’t do that,” Lieberman started, gradually turning around to Frank with his hands resting against his forehead, a gun in one hands’ grip.

“Whole goddamn world’s calling me a terrorist! She doesn’t owe me a goddamn thing!” the other soldier shot back. “You gotta assume they already got a lock on it,” just mentioning that Bucky began plotting, his mind picking up on things and drawing ideas and plans up. They were heading for this base, their hideout. This room alone would become a war zone in which they had the advantage over. They could easily arm themselves and build traps and shelters.

“Leo,” Bucky zoned back in at hearing that name. The little girl, Lieberman's’ daughter and Frank picked up on it as well, repeating the name back to him as a question to which the Hacker replied sharply. “Where’s Leo? They didn't take her!” the man shouted as he quickly made his way back up into the Hub, Bucky turning side-on as he entered and immediately began typing up a storm until he landed on another cam directed at the house from the back corner, where Bucky could immediately pinpoint her. She’d climbed through a window and landed on a trash can, dropping to the ground and stumbling slightly.

“Attagirl. Attagirl,” Frank praised quietly to himself, fixed on the screen. He could see the relief pouring from the Hacker beside them, the corners of his eyes watering with it. Bucky wouldn’t lie, the relief was mutual, his muscles relaxed and his mind eased at the thought that at least one of them hadn’t been caught. “Okay, does she have a phone?” the other soldier spoke up again.

“She does,” Bucky answered swiftly without looking away from the screen, watching as she ran towards the main road and turned the corner, out of sight of the camera now. He’d seen her on her phone for a minute when he and Frank had visited after Sarah invited them both.

“A’right, call her,” the other soldier requested, Bucky glancing away to see the man holding his cell phone out to Lieberman, who only stared at it in surprise. “Go on,” the soldier insisted with a calm tone.

“How can I?” the Hacker replied, eyeing it for the longest time before staring at Frank for the same amount. Glancing between it and the man, David gradually turned his eyes to Bucky, who’d been stood there silent, with a pleading stare, swallowing thickly. “Buck?” the Soldier blinked, watching him. They knew that it was a risk for both Frank and David to call her. One, she may not trust _Pete_ anymore and her father calling would completely break her. No one heard anything about Bucky being on the news, only an Inhuman.

He was the better option right now and Lieberman knew that.

After a moment, he nodded slowly, the Hacker taking the phone and quickly typing in the number and pressing the call button before handing it over to Bucky, who reached it to his ear and waited and waited, the call ringing for longer than he liked before it picked up.

“Leo?” he asked softly, making sure that he used the same tone of voice that he had when he first met them, the gruff deepness that was usually lacing his tone. “Leo?” he repeated in question after he only received silence.

 _“Bucky?”_ her voice came over after a long moment, a breath of relief leaving his nose, his shoulders loosening as the tension eased up.

“Leo, I’m gonna help you, okay?” he explained slowly and seriously, momentarily trying to gauge if there was any trust there if there was a chance that he could really help her. “But you can’t go to the police or talk to anyone, alright? Things are really complicated. Can you promise me that?” he explained further, using a soft tone, a trusting one. He wanted her safe as much as the other two men in the room.

 _“They took Mom and Zach. I don’t know what to do,”_ her voice trembled, cracking multiple times in the back of her throat. It sounded as if she were on the verge of tears and he wasn't at all surprised.

“It’ll be alright, Honey. I know what they did,” he spoke with uncharacteristic care and comfort. He needed to calm her. “Look, I know that you have no reason to trust me, but we’re really the only chance that you and your family have,” Bucky mentioned simply and bluntly, needing to get that through to her. She was a child, he had to be for her to understand.

 _“You said ‘We’. Is Pete there?”_ she immediately asked after, barely a beat between his last word and her first. She sounded hopeful, which was a great start to the talk about Frank. She wanted him there.

“Yeah, he’s with me. Pete’s right here with me. We’re going to help you through this,” Bucky comforted as he shifted closer to the man in question, his free _metal-hand_ bumping the other soldiers’.

 _“Okay,”_ she replied softly, sounding relieved herself. This was his chance.

“Alright, I’m gonna hand you over to him and he’ll explain what to do next. Understand?” he asked calmly, questioning whether she wanted that and he got a sound of affirmation as a reply, a soft smile crossing his features for just a split second before reaching it out to Frank, who took it gratefully.

“Listen, Sweetheart. When we get off the phone, I want you to take the battery out. You throw it as far as you can. D’you know what a SIM card is, Sweetheart?” Frank continued where Bucky left off without beating around any form of bush. A moment later and the soldier gave a nod. “Good. You throw that in the other direction, alright?” Lieberman then began waving his hands, getting Franks’ attention. “Hang on, darlin’. What?” he directed a harsh whisper towards the Hacker.

“There’s a Park, uh. a playground by a pool that we used to-, We’d call it the Pool Playground,” he explained quickly with a stutter here and there. It was reminiscent of a park pool that he and Steve had gone to as kids back in Brooklyn.

“Yeah, okay-, Sweetheart, you know where the pool is in that Park? I want you to go there,” even after Frank began talking again, Lieberman continued to babble about the pool, saying that it was where he used to take her and her brother. “Wait for us. We will come for you. Do it now, go,” after a few seconds, Frank pulled the device from his ear and then ended the call, Bucky hoping that she did exactly that and headed for the pool.

For a moment, his mind wandered to thinking that maybe they’d need more than just themselves. He was tempted to call in the big guns for this. The current situation though, this they could handle. Just some goons, he hoped. He’d taken on a squad before and with his skill set _and_ Franks’, they’d take them on easy. He’d have to bring it up to Frank later after this.

“You gotta go to her,” Bucky zoned in again, hearing the other soldier speak to David. His gaze lifted to them, his hip resting back against the desk behind him.

“What? I thought you said you two were going,” Lieberman spoke up, sounding off-put, in disbelief. He knew where Frank was going with this. He’d had the same thought in that they’d hang back to take out the guys that were coming here. The Hacker wouldn’t be left alone here, he wouldn’t stand as much of a chance as the soldiers’. One was very military trained and deadly and the other could take on a whole unit in one sweep before they knew what hit them.

“I know what I said, but it’s gotta be you,” Frank continued, Bucky simply watching it unfold. The Hacker needed reassurance, he was flustering under pressure.

“How can I? She thinks I’m dead,” he scoffed, his tone cracking and wavering. “Hey, David-,” Frank started, getting cut off straight after. “What am I supposed to do? I’m supposed to go over and say ‘Hey baby, I’ve been living in a basement for a year. I’m not dead. Let’s get some cocoa’?” he chuckled, losing it. This was too hard on him, but he agreed with Frank. Lieberman needed to do this, for himself and his daughter and to avoid dying. The men were on their way.

“Hey, look at me,” David didn't. He simply avoided eye contact, thinking too much. “Look at me,” he finally did, though his movements were slow and almost robotic. “You’re her father, right? You go to your little girl, aright? You meet me at the Greenpoint Terminal. If I don’t show up by midnight, you go get Madani. You go _only_ to Madani, got it?” he’d almost forgotten about her.

“What’re you two gonna do?” the Hacker asked after a long moment of silence, glancing between him and Frank.

“We’re gonna wait here,” Bucky replied, arms crossing over his chest as he leaned further back against the desk, seeming relaxed. He was ready for them. He knew where the weapons were, he knew where to hide and wait out. It was all down to Frank now to give him an idea of what he no doubt how planned.

“They’re gonna tell us where Sarah is,” the other soldier made it sound like a confirmed foreshadowing and he could imagine what he thought about doing to get that information. Bucky was all for it.

“And then we’re going to kill them,” he added on to Frank’s sentence, side-eyeing the man and seeing him do the same. They were both ready for this. Steve wouldn’t be proud. There’d be lectures.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to stalk me, find me here on [Tumblr](https://tyjax-eeowen.tumblr.com/) and here on  
> [Wattpad](https://www.wattpad.com/user/EllisEOwen) if you want to see what I've been working on in terms of Original Stories.


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